Waning Beacons
by thedraconicwerewolf
Summary: After spending some time away, Stiles returns home as a fully accredited officer. Inspired by his dad, he hopes to use the experience to both help around town and to put his degree in criminality to use. However, no amount of classroom learning and police academy training could have prepared him for what he is unknowingly walking into on this late summer night in Beacon Hills.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everybody! Here's a new story for you all to read. Honestly, it was just an idea that popped into my head and refused to go away. As such, I just had to put it down. Because of that, I pulled a literal all-nighter to get this first chapter written.

Also, sorry if the title sounds bad. I honestly have no idea what to call this yet, so I figured "Waning Beacons" would fit. You know, waning in reference to the moon and Beacons for the town. That and I was going for the definition of "dying hope". That honestly was my original title, but it sounded way too cheesy. At least "Waning Beacons" sounds more original, right? ...Right?

Now I know what some of you are probably thinking. Why did I spend the entire night writing a first chapter that has no more more than about two-and-a-half pages? Well, the reason is because I had wanted it to be a prologue of sorts. However, my idea for the prologue only extended to about a page-and-a-half. That's not enough to even constitute a prologue! As such, I decided to meld a bit of my first chapter into this prologue, thus creating an individual chapter that is hardly the amount I usually write.

However, I did try my best to make it sound captivating enough that what little I have for this first chapter should be enough to at least pique your interests. I hope it at least did that. So yeah, I do hope you enjoy it. I'll try to have a consistent update schedule with this, preferably an update once a week. I do need to practice being consistent with my postings, so I'll start with this. And as you can see, the chapters don't have their own titles this time. With what I have in mind, I think putting chapter names for this story would be inappropriate.

With that said, I'll leave you all to start reading now!

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"Didn't you get all the info you needed from your investigation?" a man exclaimed as he sat on a metal chair. His clothes were dirty and haggard, splotches of rust brown spots clear on his light blue shirt and jeans. His hair was disheveled despite the short cut making such a sight supposedly impossible, the sight only accentuating the exhaustion clear on his face. "You said I wouldn't be interrogated!"

He was in what he assumed to be an interrogation room; the interior decorated with only a metal table that he sat behind. There was a device that looked like a recorder on it, the red light blinking in anticipation of being used. Across from him stood a man dressed in a black suit, the only light in the room strategically placed behind him to blur his face. Behind him was a mirror he strongly suspected was one-way. There was also another chair in front of the mystery man, though he was right now leaning against it.

However, he cared little about where he was and the man's identity. All he wanted was to be out of here where a hot shower, a potential plate of curly fries, and an inviting bed waited for him. After all he suffered through a few nights ago, he deserved that much!

"I said you _might not_ be interrogated, sir," the suited man accentuated as he crossed his arms. "Do understand that recent events have proven disadvantageous to our efforts. We may have numerous tools at our disposal, but we lack the proper places to search. As of now, our pool of evidence is…beyond less than ideal."

"And whose fault is that? Certainly not mine!"

"Again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience," the man said, his tone hardly reflecting regret. "I'll admit that we did manage to recover some evidence thanks in part to the other victims we rescued. Still, their stories don't exactly correlate with what we found. We were hoping you'd be able to shed some light on this. After all, one of the officers said you and your friend might know more about the incident."

"So now you're roping him into this?" the interrogated hostilely asked.

"He's already agreed to cooperate. I'm only asking that you do the same. We already know from initial statements you two have been together during the bulk of this experience. If you can tell us what you remember seeing, we might come close to giving you and the victims something akin to justice. We'll be stuck where we are, though, if you refuse to talk. I know you're an officer of the law; I'm sure you can appreciate how important having these talks can be."

For a moment, the disheveled man stayed quiet. The suited man's plea for him to tell his story was hardly passionate. Still, his insistence did strike a chord in him. While he hated to admit it, the logic was enough to override the part of his brain telling him to never again think about what he saw and heard.

"…For the record, I was only on the clock for a day," he finally said. By his answer, it was clear he still wanted to maintain some semblance of control. "Less than that, actually. That hardly qualifies me as having been an officer of the law. But whatever; I'll tell you everything I know.

"But I'll only talk if he's in here with me!" he quickly added. The interrogator kept stoic, already knowing who he was referring to. "I'm sure my version will have some gaps in it. He's the only one who can fill them in. That and parts of our experience is the same thing. Believe me when I say you'll save both time and money by putting us together. Just don't expect to save anything on your car insurance."

"Done," the suited man replied, actually chuckling a bit at the weak joke.

"Wha- Just like that?"

"Just like that," the interrogator repeated as he finally sat down. "You'll be retelling your story alongside your friend."

"Well, that was suspiciously easy."

"You're talking to the one who has authority to entertain your conditions. I don't think you have much to be surprised about.

"However, it will be a bit before he can come. We're still running his credentials."

"Figures," the interrogated scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "Do you guys have to be so suspicious about everyone?"

"Since we're classifying what you went through as an act of terrorism, yes. As such," the suited man said as he pressed a button on the recorder, "I'd like for you to start without him."

"Gee, you really are a stereotypical government agent. Okay, let's talk. What do you wanna know?"

"Your name, for starters; and how you got into this mess," the agent suggested as he leaned against the table.

"Fine. The name's Stiles Stilinski – you have my file, so I'm not giving you my real first name! I was driving back home the day after I graduated from the Police Academy…"

 _-Three days ago-_

" _Thank you for calling the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department. Sorry for missing your call; I'm currently out of the office. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._ " The familiar obnoxious beep of an answering machine echoed in the jeep.

"Hey, dad; it's me again," Stiles greeted, his tone slightly weary. The light from his phone was barely enough to pierce through the night as he drove down the quiet street. "I know you're the sheriff and all that jazz; but how many crimes are they making you respond to today? This is literally the fifth time I've called! You've got to have this number connect to the other phones in the station when you're out. Either that or think about investing in a cell phone! If you're ignoring my calls on purpose, I swear I'm gonna make the rest of your eating days a living health hell!

"But yeah, just calling to say I'm almost home," he continued after a moment's pause. He blinked rapidly a couple times after a passing car with its high beams on flew past him. "Of course, that's provided that idiotic drivers turn off their damned high beams! I mean, are they seriously so blind that they can't see in the dark? What're they doing driving at this hour then? And what's with them speeding like they're at the Daytona 500? They're just asking to start an accident!

"Sorry; rambling again," he groaned. "It's been a long road trip. Anyway, I should be in town within the next fifteen minutes. I'll probably stop at the diner before coming home, so no need to worry if I'm not there. But if you're this busy, you'll probably just pull an all-nighter at the office. Boy, aren't you glad I graduated from the Police Academy yesterday? Now we can share some of the workload! I'll see you soon, maybe even later tonight if we're lucky!"

Stiles ended the call by poking at his phone resting on its console dock. The light then became brighter as it exited to the main apps screen. It better illuminated the car, shining against the walls and through the spotless windows. It did nothing to showcase whatever he drove by; but it gave some comfort to know people could not possibly miss both the headlights and the bright light coming from his phone. After all, anything can happen when you're driving down what looks to be an empty road at night, right?

"Should I call Scott?" he wondered aloud as he drove passed yet another car trying out for the races. "Eh, he'll figure it out tomorrow. Besides, he's probably busy slaving away at Deaton's. Who am I to tear him from that?" he added with a sadistic smile.

A small group of cars suddenly whizzed towards him. Most did not have their lights on; he only noticed them when the lead car had a bright enough light coming from inside. He had to do a hard stop so as to avoid crashing into one he barely caught driving in his path. It thankfully swerved away, but the driver failed to slow down.

"Alright; what's going on? _!_ " Stiles exclaimed as he turned around to look at the group of cars continuing to speed away. "Is there a tryout for an actual Need for Speed street race going on? Even the racers in the movies weren't crazy enough to drive at night without headlights! I need to report this to dad when I see him.

"Sorry about that, Roscoe," he apologized while lovingly patting the console. "I didn't mean to stress your brakes like that. Hopefully, we won't run into that again."

With a frustrated groan, Stiles put the car back into gear and continued on his way home. Thankfully, the rest of the trip was devoid of anymore near-death experiences. With any luck, he would be able to make it to the town diner before it closed. If there was one thing he missed, it was eating curly fries at his favorite diner. He could already feel his mouth pooling with drool at the thought, and he sped up a bit in hopes of getting there faster.

* * *

Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this new story. Originally, there was a lot more in this ending author's note, but I accidentally pressed backspace without knowing I clicked outside of the typing screen. As a result, ten minutes worth of my own thoughts got deleted. As such, I'll go for the less detailed cliff notes.

My knowledge of the characters comes mainly from the various _Teen Wolf_ fanfiction I've been reading for the past year. I've only started watching the series in the past week, so most of my characters' attitudes will be based off of the various fanfiction I've read. However, I've noticed that most writers write each character with certain quirks that never change. For example, Stiles likes to ramble and often uses run-on sentences. He also likes to quote moments from movies and video games when he's nervous. Case in point, his "weak joke" from earlier was based off the Geico commercial; saving you both time and money. It'll be hard to do his character in particular because he often employs the use of run-on sentences, something that I have been trained as a fiction writer to avoid doing.

And yes, that was the cliff notes version of what I said. I know it seems long, but it was definitely a lot longer and more detailed. Like I said, I pulled an all-nighter to do this, and I'm silently pissed at having my thoughts disappear in just one second. It's six in the morning, and I want to sleep for three hours now.

But yeah, I do thank you for taking the time to read this new story. Please leave a review telling me what you thought about it. I know it's probably not much to say, but even your feelings on how you thought the beginning started will be good. As long as it's constructive criticism, as in a review that points out your opinions on certain moments of the story or the writing itself, I'm happy.

Thanks again for your time, and I hope to see some of you back in my new chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, everybody. Here's a new chapter, delivered within the one-week updating schedule I promised I'd do! Okay, so it's a couple days earlier. To be honest, I wanted to get this posted today, a Sunday, so that I would be able to post no later than the next Sunday barring any important or health-related issues. That and I don't like updating in the middle of the week if I'm going to adhere to this new posting rule of mines.

But yeah, let me just say that I'll admit if some of you believe the beginning of this chapter could've worked well in the first one. I realized that when making the story and was afraid I might've posted the first chapter prematurely. Thankfully, I managed to somehow still make it a part of this one and fit together with what's going on. At least, I hoped I ended up making it all work.

What I'm really amazed at, though, is the fact that I got four followers and two favorites for this story already. Nothing I've ever written as a first chapter got that amount of support before. I highly suspect it's because of this being a _Teen Wolf_ story more than you all being so enamored with my writing; but I am still grateful for the support nonetheless. But in all seriousness, I would like to thank **Dramione Winchester-Halliwell, HeartlessNobody13, Skyentist, and twilight-skye8** for following this story; with an extra thanks to **Dramione and twilight** for putting this on their favorites list.

So with that said, I'll go ahead and leave you all alone to read my new chapter! I do hope you'll enjoy it; I promise that this will be a bit more exciting than the first chapter. Please don't forget to leave a review before you move onto the next story you want to read. Any constructive criticism will be both welcomed and appreciated. Thanks again!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

"Ah, the neighborhood's just as quiet as I remember," Stiles sighed as he rode pass some familiar buildings. Most were just simple houses built on what was once farmland. However, many had "for sale" signs pitched on the front yard. "Six months away in the Sacramento police academy and this housing lot's still not doing great. Ain't it nice to be back in a town that makes poor city zoning decisions, Roscoe?"

A few seconds later, he saw an ornate city boundary sign. Stenciled into the weathered wood was "Welcome to Beacon Hills", the letters covered in chipped white paint. The colorful design had clearly seen better days, the once bright colors dulled from sun exposure. To him, though, it has been the same since he first saw it years ago when his dad took him by it on his first out-of-town trip.

"Wait; home of the what?" he wondered as he passed the sign. He had driven by too fast to read what he realized to be a recent addition. He actually entertained the idea of backing up to see what it said, but he chose not to. "I'm guessing it's not the home of the brave. Eh, I can just ask someone about it later. Besides, I think you're due for a long rest," he added while smiling at his dashboard. "You've been doing your best for me these past couple of days. I promise you a nice vacation when we're home."

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He slowed down a bit before looking at the screen to see who was calling. The name made his smile brighter as he accepted the call.

"Hey, Scotty; what's going-"

"Oh, thank god I finally got through!" a relieved voice echoed through the car's speakers. The man was breathing heavily as though he just finished running. Strange sounds could also be heard in the background. "Stiles, listen to me! Don't come back here! Just stay where you are! Don't think about coming home!"

"S-Scott, slow down!" Stiles managed to get out between the other's rushed words. "I'm not understanding you. Take a deep breath and talk slowly."

"Look, j-just don't leave Sacramento!" Scott demanded, this time more calmly. "Don't come home. It's…but pure…!"

"You're breaking up, Scott. Can you repeat what you said?" The man waited a couple seconds for a response but only caught part of a single word. "Sorry, I can't hear you. There's a lot of interference. If you can hear me, then let me just say it's too late. I've already passed the Beacon Hills sign. I should be in the town itself in a few minutes."

"You're what? _!_ " Scott practically screeched.

 _Oh yeah, he can definitely hear me!_ Stiles was forced to slow Roscoe down to a crawl so as to recover from the auditory assault. "Damn, dude; what's your problem? _!_ Are you trying to get me killed by playing the psycho phone passenger?"

"Don't…here! Just… and stay…!"

"Alright, this is getting ridiculous! Look, I'm gonna stop by the diner to grab some food. We can meet up there and you can tell me what's bothering you. That okay?"

"No, Stiles! You can't…!"

The line suddenly went dead. Stiles glanced over at his phone to see if Scott accidentally hung up. Instead, all he saw was a warning about the connection being at minimal or nonexistent levels.

"…What was that about, Roscoe?" Stiles asked. "I'm the one who tends to get hysterical, not Scott! Then again, it was probably just him trying to yell through the static. Eh, I'll figure out when I see him later. For now, my faithful steed, our next stop's the diner!" he announced as he once again sped the car up.

As he promised Scott, he arrived in the more populous part of town a few minutes later. However, the first thing that caught his attention instead of the familiar scenery was an apartment complex that had clearly been in a fire. The walls looked alright but only because it was of brick construct. Smoke thick and black enough to be seen in the night sky wafted out of the blown-out windows. Stiles could smell the soot from in his car; he had to shut Roscoe's vents to keep from coughing.

"Damn, I hope everyone got out okay," he frowned while wrinkling his nose. "But why aren't there fire trucks here? I know the state's been going through cutbacks, but the town's not that strapped for cash!"

A few streets later, he came upon a bad car accident. It was a collision that involved at least five cars. One was completely upside down while another rested on top of a third. A fourth was on its side, all its windows having so many cracks that it was like looking through dense fog. Yet amazingly enough, they were still intact. The last car had the least amount of damage. The paint on one side was scratched from hood to trunk. It had clearly been sideswiped and managed to come to a stop without hitting anything. To say it was a devastating scene would be kind of an understatement.

Unlike how it was back at the apartment, however; the cops were already at the scene. A few of their cars also had damage, but none were as bad as the mangled mess. He could also see some of the officers checking out the scene for what he assumed to be evidence. There were no signs of ambulances or other medical personnel around. He assumed then that the victims were already sent to the hospital.

"An apartment fire and a traffic accident. What's next, mass panic followed by a viral outbreak?" Stiles grumbled as he drove pass the scene. "Seriously, this is typical stuff you see in those horror movies. I bet Scott would tell me to tone down my imagination if he were here," he added with a smile. "But he's not here. That means I'm allowed to let my imagination get the better of me!"

Of course, he kept his mind focused on the road. The last thing he wanted was to become an accident victim himself. That and he preferred to keep Roscoe out of harm's way for as long as possible. He's been doing a good job so far since high school, including the regular upkeep that came with buying a well-driven jeep. The car seemed to agree with him as it had not needed a check-up in recent weeks. It made the occasional odd sound every now and then. Thankfully, he heard them enough times to know it was nothing major.

What he did notice, though, was that the streets were remarkably empty. Even though he did pass by the occasional person, it was not even nine yet! This was the time when people were out and about with friends. That was especially true for this part of town being it was a popular place for bar parties. Stiles had been to a few himself with Scott back in high school, so he was in a position to know.

With that said, he became very suspicious when he passed by a bar with its lights off. It was well-known for being the first in town to cater heavily to the LGBTQ crowd. Even those who identified as straight often went for the lively atmosphere. Scott always had it at the top of his list whenever he wanted show off his then fake ID. Stiles had been more than happy to go along; even if it was just to satisfy his inner horn dog by watching some beautiful, or handsome, eye-candy leaving it out on the dance floor.

"Okay, what's going on? First there was the unattended apartment fire; then there was the big car accident; now one of the biggest bars in town's closed. If this is Beacon Hills' new normal, then I want a word with the mayor!"

Stiles barely let out an aggravated sigh before noticing a familiar sign down the street. It was the diner where he was going to meet up with Scott. On the corner of the block it occupied was where the sign sat, slowly rotating atop its pole and flashing its neon lettering. The parking lot had a few cars in it, but the low amount of customers he could see through the windows did not match.

"At least it's open," he shrugged as he parked Roscoe next to the lot exit. He then took his cell phone into his pocket and left the car. He smoothed the wrinkles that had accumulated on his blue shirt while heading towards the diner.

As much as he liked the idea of being as close to the diner entrance as possible; Stiles always had this bit of paranoia about some kind of imminent disaster happening. It might have meant a few seconds of extra running, but the result was the ability to instantly leave without wasting time backing out of a parking space. He thanked nights of shamelessly binge-watching horror shows with Scott for his unreasonable caution.

"Hey, Erika; guess who's back?" Stiles announced the moment he set foot inside. "It's your most favorite customer!"

What he did not expect was to be answered with silence. He knew that Erika, the tough but friendly waitress, normally worked the night shifts. To then see her not working was an odd sight. The few customers that were there had no reaction to his boisterous entrance. Not even a single member of the kitchen staff popped their heads out to stare at him. If anything, Boyd, Erika's boyfriend and overall best cook in the entire diner, would have yelled at him to keep it down. Nope, not a single peep from Mr. Gruff but Kindly.

"Hello? Anyone here?" More silence. "I'm a hungry guy who wants some food. And no, I'm not a creepy trucker guy!" Still nothing. He called out once again, this time with a hint of panic, "Come on, you guys; this isn't funny anymore! Boyd? Erika? …Scott?"

At this point, he knew to expect the silence. To hope he would still get a response from friends he knew were not here was crazy. However, he heard a groan from one of the customers seated at the counter.

"Sorry to bother you, sir; but can I ask you something?" Stiles asked as he walked up to the customer. The man made no sign of acknowledgement. "Do you know where everybody went? The place can't be closed since you're sitting there…staring down a cup of coffee," he observed after peeking into said cup. "Sir…? You hearing me?"

The man actually growled at Stiles' persistent questioning. He turned his head slightly to the other, his lips barely parted and showcasing some unusually sharp teeth. What really caught Stiles' attention, though, was the man's strange yellow eyes. Apart from the funny coloring, the clouded gaze proved concerning. They were looking at him while at the same time staring beyond him. It was like he was in a drugged-out daydream state.

"Okay…, I'll just leave you to your brooding." Stiles took a few steps back before taking out his phone. He tried calling his dad to suggest sending an officer to pick up the strange man. All he got, though, was an automated message saying the area had an unestablished connection. "Of course there's no reception. What else is new? I need to go shopping for a different carrier. I'm tired of these dead zones!"

An explosion suddenly rocked the entire diner! The sound was deafening, and the strong shock brought Stiles to his knees. Some dishes fell to the floor with a shattering crash. From the leftmost edge of his vision, he saw a bright flash through the windows followed by an unnatural orange glow.

"What the heck was – Whoa? _!_ "

Immediately, the man fell onto Stiles. His body weight combined with the sudden action caused the poor guy to fall flat to his stomach.

"G-Get off me!" Stiles exclaimed as he struggled to escape the one-man doggie pile. "I mean it, man! Get off!"

It took a few more seconds, but Stiles finally managed to throw the man off. He quickly got up and jumped over the counter to put some kind of barrier between them. Turning around, he saw the man slowly getting up. Once back on his feet, he turned to face Stiles. His yellow eyes, once clouded, were now clear and showcased fear.

"I know you got scared, man; but couldn't you've landed somewhere else? I'm not some kind of fall cushion. And yeah; I'm fine, thank you very much!"

The man made no indication he heard Stiles. Instead, he shifted his attention towards one of the windows where the flash occurred. There was smoke rising a few streets down where the explosion happened. The orange lights that flickered against the buildings were akin to flames licking against the wind. It spooked Stiles a bit to see a fire in such an indirect way.

"Damn, that can't be good! What caused-"

Something suddenly crashed through the windows and threw the yellow-eyed man to the ground. His fallen body made a dull thud followed by something heavy landing. Then a strange sound that sounded like squishy slashing reached Stiles' ears. He had still been wondering about the fire and was further shocked into confusion by the new commotion. He managed to collect himself a bit, however, and cautiously peered over the counter. What he saw then was beyond shocking; he could not help the high-pitched squeak that passed his lips.

It was the sight of a person repeatedly slashing and stabbing at the man with some kind of sharp object in their hands. He assumed they were knives; but it was the last thing on his mind. What he was concentrating on were the sounds associated with the movements. Every stabbing action was like a sickeningly wet squish; and the withdrawal was accompanied by an equally sickening wet slurp. It was almost enough to make Stiles outright scream!

Scratch that; he did end up screaming! He screamed in terror at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing in the quiet diner. That was more than enough to bring the murderer's attention on him. With him now staring straight at Stiles, he could see the man's eyes. Instead of the look of a psychotic murderer he associated with horror movies; they were colored a disturbingly blood red that now considered him the next target.

* * *

Well, I'm sure you can all tell by know from what video game I've gotten the inspiration to base this story on from the hints and references I've dropped. If not, then I'll say now that it's from Resident Evil 2. Passing by the "Welcome to ..." sign, Stiles crack about a viral outbreak, the entering of a diner, seeing a disgusting scene in said diner; it all alludes to Resident Evil 2. Not to mention the crack about the viral outbreak was my way of showcasing Stiles' movie and game geek side.

But yes, my only concern for this story at this point is whether or not I've rated the story properly. In terms of the stabbing sounds, I hope I wasn't so graphic that it needs to be rated M. I could care less what the rating is, but the last thing I want is for some "rule-conscious reader" flagging this story for being inappropriately rated for gory details. Although I probably won't be writing that many gory details; whatever does make it into my stories might be enough to constitute an M rating. I'll figure it out when the time comes; it'll stay as a high T for now, though.

And that's really all I have to say now. Not much for an ending author's note, although that's mainly because it's almost four in the morning where I'm at right now. I want to go to sleep. So yeah, thanks for taking the time to read my new chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it! But please don't forget to leave a review before moving onto the next story you want to read. Any constructive criticism is welcomed. Thanks again, and until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, everybody! Here's a new chapter for you all to read. Yes, it's a day before a whole week has passed by, but I decided to change my schedule up just a little bit. While this story will be posted once a week, it will either be on a Saturday or a Sunday. In a sense, it will still be a week from one posting to the next; it'll just be on either of the weekend days. Just giving you all a heads up in case you start wondering why some posts are on Saturdays and the others on Sundays.

With that said, I do hope that you all liked the last chapter. It's kind of hard to tell since nobody left a review or put the story on their favorites list? Am I really that bad last chapter...? No, I'm just kidding around. I know not every chapter is going to have a new follower or a reviewer. That's just how it works. At least I know that people did take the time to read thanks to the viewer counter on my home page. So just seeing you people taking the time to read my new chapters is enough. So thanks!

And just to say, this is going to be another scene shift in this chapter. Don't worry; I'm not going to do this in such quick succession every time. It just happened that what I had in mind required the scene change. Once you read, you'll see what I mean. Again, I don't intend to make the scene shifts so frequently.

And that's pretty much all I have to say. Thanks again for all your support in reading this story. Please don't forget to leave a review and a constructive criticism about what you think on my new chapter. Until the next update on this or any of my other stories on here everybody!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

"His eyes were blood red?" the agent asked. He had quietly listened to Stiles' recount of his return to Beacon Hills. It had been mostly believable up until the part about being attacked by an as of now unconfirmed psychotic murderer. "Are you sure you didn't just mistake them for being bloodshot?"

"I knew you'd think I was crazy," Stiles replied, opting to not answer the man's question. "And I knew that's what you were gonna ask. I mean, every horror show that has a victim who talks to police is always doubted and dubbed as insane. Then everyone figures out later that the 'crazy person' was right as they're being picked off one by one! Ain't it surprising how accurate those victim-police scenes are to real life? I'm serious; it always happens!"

"I never said you were crazy," the agent said as he took Stiles' rant in stride. In fact, his tone had a hint of amusement to it. "I'm only suggesting that you might've mistaken what you saw."

"And there goes both the backpedaling and sugarcoating. You basically just admitted to implying I'm crazy; don't even think about denying it!"

"Please understand that what you're saying is hard for anyone to believe, Mr. Stilinski." He ignored both Stiles' scowl and contemptuous grunt. "A man's eyes don't just turn blood red. If they did, then it'd be a sign of their immediate blindness. But from what you've told me, the killer must've had had good eyesight. How else could he have known where the man he killed was standing?

"However, I'll admit your account does coincide with what the other victims told us," the agent quickly added. "Altogether, there's been three separate descriptions of a similar murderer, yours not included. It's mostly different, but both their way of conducting the murders and the unusual eye colorations are similar. So understand that while I may doubt you, it doesn't mean I suggest you should be in a mental hospital."

A knock echoed in the room just as Stiles opened his mouth. Not even a second later, the door behind the agent opened and allowed in light from the hallway. With it, he could better see the room and noticed the walls were made of metal. Except for the table and chairs, nothing was inside. It was like he was in a prison rather than an interrogation room.

"We've finished running Mr. McCall's credentials, sir," the newcomer, a woman with a monotonous tone, curtly announced. Only her petite silhouette could be seen through the bright light. Stiles started fidgeting the moment he heard the name.

"I thought I told you to wait a moment after knocking," the man chastised as he turned the recorder off. "You could've interrupted a potentially promising interrogation."

"I apologize, sir," she replied, although her terse tone said otherwise. Stiles noticed her flipping through what looked like a file in her hands. "I just wanted to make sure you were kept updated."

"Thank you. So what is it you have to say?"

"Mr. McCall's background check came out clean. He's a college senior trying to get his degree in veterinary medicine." Stiles could practically hear the frown in her words, and it made him angry. However, it seemed she had enough tact change it as she quickly cleared her throat. "Would you like him prepped for questioning now?"

"That's not necessary," the man stiffly replied. Clearly, he was also not happy with her tone. "Have him brought in here immediately."

"Are you sure about that, sir? You'll be running the risk of compromising the two men's testimonies. And that's not mentioning the obvious possibility for conflicting interests." Her disapproval was thick in her last statement.

"I appreciate the concern, but it's not necessary. My superiors have already cleared me to conduct Mr. McCall's interrogation. That and I believe the two men's experiences can be combined to make a single account."

"I see. I'd still advise against it, though."

"As I've already said, I appreciate your concern," the agent repeated as he sat in one of the chairs. "However, it's not your place to say. Need I remind you that I'm _your_ superior? To question an otherwise sound decision borders on disrespectful. And don't get me started on the procedures regarding potential witnesses that're in the vicinity," he added, clearly referencing her earlier auditory disdain.

"…Understood, sir," he woman said with a sigh. She then motioned for someone out of Stiles' line of sight to come closer. She guided the new silhouette into the room before shutting the door with a little more force than was necessary.

"Damn, she needs to fix that attitude!" the newcomer complained after jumping from the action. "And what's with almost slamming the door on my back?"

"It _is_ you, Scott!" Stiles happily exclaimed as he got up and ran the short distance to the other. "God, am I glad to see you!"

"What? Who're- S-Stiles?" the man breathed out as he was assaulted with a tight hug. "You're here, too!"

"No duh, Sherlock! Where else would I be?" Stiles asked, his voice muffled by Scott's shoulder.

"N-no, I meant we're both in here!" Scott had since recovered and returned the hug with equal force. He kept his nose buried in his best friend's hair, taking in deep breaths and savoring the scent. It was almost as if he was treating it as a therapeutic experience. "But why? I thought they had everyone separated for questioning."

"That's the normal procedure," the agent stated, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. He was clearly content to watch the show of affection as he made no attempts to separate them. "However, I thought it best that you both be together for this. You two were together when you were found. And from what Mr. Stilinski told me, your testimonies might be better understood when put together."

Both men stayed quiet as they parted from the embrace. Stiles was still smiling like a kid celebrating the best Christmas ever, but Scott seemed deep in thought. He kept his eyes focused on the agent, his face still obscured by strategic lighting.

"Is something wrong, Mr. McCall?"

"…Is that you, dad?"

"Dad?" Stiles repeated, looking at his best friend as though he was crazy. "Are you sure? You haven't seen him in a few years."

"It's him," Scott simply said. He kept his suspicious brown eyes on the agent's form. "I remember how subtle his amused tone is."

"Lots of people speak like that," the agent countered in a clipped manner.

"And there's the tone for when you want a subject dropped."

"Hey, I remember that," his best friend admitted, now looking at the agent with a raised eyebrow. "I got a lot of that when I kept bugging him. But just because he has two vocal ticks doesn't mean he's your dad."

"…Better make that three," Scott replied after a few seconds of tense silence. "He gets quiet whenever he's about to accidentally let a secret slip. I'm not an idiot; I don't have to see his face to know it's him."

Stiles kept shifting his attention between the two, the tension thick in the silence. Scott obviously knew his dad's habits, but it was still a longshot to say the agent was the same person. That and what were the chances Mr. McCall worked for the government?

"Heh, I should've known I couldn't fool my own son," the agent, Scott's dad, stated with an amused chuckle.

"You really are Mr. McCall? _!_ " Stiles nearly shouted, his mouth hanging in surprise.

"It's Agent McCall, Stiles," the man corrected, his tone now more causal. "I guess being away for a few years isn't enough to muddle your memories of me, Scott."

"You consider eight years a few?" Scott asked as he stared down his dad's silhouette. His voice was slowly rising in anger. "You think I don't remember how you were picking me up from school one day and then just suddenly disappear the next? You didn't even tell mom where you went!"

"I know, Scott; I'm sorry for that."

"You think that's gonna make it better? Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it, dad! I was thirteen when you left. How could you abandon me right when I was about to start high school? I thought you'd at least come back to see my graduation, but you didn't! Mom's been worried sick about you this whole time, too! Now I don't even know if she's dead or worse! And here you are working as a government agent? Didn't you care enough to come back home when you heard what was happening? _!_ "

"S-Scotty, I think you need to calm down a bit," Stiles suggested while placing a cautious hand on his friend's shoulder. "As much as I agree that you have a right to be angry; now's not the time for a father-son argument. You're starting to shout! That and there might be agents out there waiting for a chance to knock you upside the head!"

"Then what else am I supposed to do?" Scott growled. Stiles' touch clearly had an effect on him as his anger abated somewhat. "I can't exactly welcome him back with open arms and pretend everything's fine!"

"And I'm not asking for that," Agent McCall admitted. He got out of his chair and went to lean against the wall. "Considering how long I've been out of your life; you have a right to be angry, Scott. I won't make excuses, but know that I was just starting my time with the FBI when I met your mom. She knew what she was signing up for when we married and decided to have you. She also knew that me being an agent would prevent me from being the dad you deserved. Still, she understood how much it meant to me."

"So you're saying we were not as important? How can you even think about putting the government before us?"

"That's not what I'm saying, son! Doing this was the only way I could think of to keep our home safe; to keep both you and your mom safe! I could've retired and worked at the police department, but Sheriff Stilinski was already doing a better than perfect job. He was there to ensure your safety, and I was out in the international field doing the same."

"Then what've you been doing for the past eight years?" Stiles interrupted. Even though he felt this was not his place to speak, his curiosity to get the better of him. That and he figured there was an invitation for him to chime in since his dad was just mentioned. "You weren't on a secret mission or anything like that for so long, were you?"

"I was, Stiles. And before you ask, it was a full-immersion mission," the agent added just as the other opened his mouth. "That meant I wasn't able to have contact with anyone I knew. I only had my handler to rely on, but even the FBI had them under strict instructions. I also didn't know how long the assignment was going to take.

"That's how dangerous this was, Scott. Your mom only knew that I would be away for a long while. But don't think she accepted it just like that; she reacted the same way you did just now." Agent McCall let out a soft laugh despite his son's disapproving glare. "All I could tell her was that I would be out of contact with you both once I started the assignment. Because of that, we agreed to not tell you about it so you won't have to worry about me."

"So you thought it'd be better to have me believe you abandoned us? I guess I should be thanking you then," Scott huffed sarcastically as he plopped onto one of the chairs. Stiles followed suit with the one beside him. "So the fact we heard nothing about you this whole time meant you were doing fine? That doesn't make me feel any better.

"But you know what, dad? I don't care anymore! I just want to know why you're here in a place meant for victims and investigators of the Beacon Hills incident. Aren't you supposed to be on that so-called mission that's keeping you from me?"

"Technically, I still am," the man admitted as he turned around, his face still obscured by the strategic lighting. "It's just that the focus of my assignment came to Beacon Hills."

"Really? That means you should've been in town for a while," Stiles surmised as he cast Agent McCall a suspicious look. "How the hell did everybody failed to recognize you? Better yet, did you even help people get away from the chaos? Or was the town already in danger from whoever you were following?"

"No, there wasn't any danger to the town then. Even if there were, I wouldn't have been able to help. My superiors thought it'd compromise the assignment if I ran into someone who knew me. That said, I wasn't able to help with the evacuation efforts," Agent McCall said. His shoulders visibly slumped as he explained certain things about his mission. "I was stationed in the next town over as a consultant for the team that went in. I guided them and helped them with whatever questions they had about the area. Unfortunately, we ended up losing contact them two weeks ago."

"What? But that's around the time when things got crazy!" Scott exclaimed, temporarily forgetting the anger towards his dad. "That's when people started taking the attack and sickness reports seriously! Didn't your guys tell you about the stories going around?"

"They did, but they could only investigate it for so long. That and they felt the evidence pointed to some sick cult that Sheriff Stilinski and his men could handle. Obviously, we were wrong."

"Wait, are you saying you knew about those crazy killer things?" Stiles suddenly asked. His sharp mind caught every word and dissected them into the most logical explanation. "You had prior knowledge about it and just let my dad handle it all by himself?"

"We didn't know, Stiles! We were only supposed to be there to investigate a lead. We had no idea any of this would happen!

"And that's why I'm here, Scott; I'm now investigating this incident. Since I and some of my surviving team was nearby; the FBI gave us permission to start gathering evidence. Like I told Stiles earlier, the government is classifying this as an act of terrorism. They're going to do everything they can to figure all this out.

"As such, I need to figure out what you both know in order to get to the bottom of this!" Agent McCall pressed while taking the last seat across the two. He then asked while putting his arms on the table, "Please let me do this for you, Scott. I know I can't do anything to erase the past few weeks; hell, I can't erase being absent in your life for the past eight years! Still, at least let me help figure out why you and your friends got involved. Let me be the dad who'll do what he can to help you through this."

Scott stayed silent. Stiles could tell he was letting his dad's words stew away in his head. At the same time, he was having trouble figuring out if he was still angry just having difficulties opening up to the older man. Regardless, Stiles was ready to support his best friend no matter what he decided to let fly out of his mouth next.

"…Fine, I'll tell you about what I saw and did," Scott finally said after letting out a heavy sigh.

"Thank you," Agent McCall nodded solemnly. "I'm know this'll be difficult, so don't try pushing yourself into saying what you don't want to."

"Just promise me you'll talk to me as a son, not some victim you're interrogating. I don't want to feel like I'm a suspect in some crime."

"I'll try, but I can't make any guarantees," the dad replied as he motioned to the recorder. Scott's demeanor soured immediately as he understood the gesture.

"He needs to do his job, buddy," Stiles quickly intervened. "What we say might end up being used as evidence. I'm sure the last thing he wants is for our words to be seen as garbage because he's being familiar with us. Trust me; I've been through the police academy training. I know what I'm talking about. Interrogations based on something this sensitive need to be done professionally!"

"I know, Stiles! It doesn't mean I have to like it, though.

"But whatever," Scott flippantly waved off. "Do what you have to do, dad. Just don't treat us like we're fragile victims."

"I'm already treating Stiles like a competent adult. And if you grew up to be like me, you're nowhere near fragile," Agent McCall said. This earned him a small smile from his son. He then added while moving closer to the recorder, "I'm now going to start the interrogation. While this is on, I'm going to keep this as professional as possible. Are you boys ready?" Both young men nodded. "Then let's get started.

"My name is Agent Rafael McCall; I'll be conducting this interview," the agent began after he restarted the machine. "I have both you and Mr. Stilinski together because it's believed you both witnessed the same events. I'm sure there'll be questions that're hard for either of you to answer. I won't pressure you into answering, but I do need the best and truthful responses you can supply. Can you do that?"

"Of course we can!" Stiles scoffed in a matter-of-fact tone. Scott merely nodded his head while rolling his eyes.

"Alright then. Let me first start then with a simple question. Can you tell me your name, young man?"

"It's Scott McCall," Scott replied as he adopted a semi-professional tone.

"Alright, Mr. McCall. How do you know Mr. Stilinski?"

"He's been my best friend since elementary school. We've taken different paths in our lives, but I like to think we're still inseparable."

"You better believe it, dude; you're not gonna shake me off that easily!" Stiles happily exclaimed.

"Please don't shout out like that again," Agent McCall chastised firmly. "Only talk when I need you to or if you have something to add.

"Now then, Mr. McCall; were you in Beacon Hills at the time the incident occurred?" he continued while ignoring Stiles' scowl.

"I was."

"And you met up with Mr. Stilinski sometime along the way, right?"

"I'd hardly call it a meetup, but yeah."

"Do you mind explaining what you mean by that?"

"…Where do you want me to start?" Scott murmured after a moment of hesitation. Stiles knew he was not eager at having to relive the life-threatening memory.

"How about from the moments leading up to your reunion? I already have your friend's account, so I just want to make sure certain details match up."

"Alright, I guess that's a good place to start. I was at the Beacon Hills Police Department when Stiles drove into town…"

* * *

And yes, that's if for this chapter. Scott finally makes an official appearance. And we learn that the agent is really Scott's dad whose been absent in his teen life because of his FBI job. I honestly don't know much about Agent McCall except for the fact he was an absentee father and an FBI agent. That's all I really caught from the couple of fanfiction stories I read. I know I could use Wikipedia to get some answers, but I don't want to accidentally spoil the show since I'm still on the first season. I probably already did without knowing it, but fanfiction usually takes certain scenarios and change them into something else.

But yeah, my version of Agent McCall is a man who wants to protect his family from national threats. I tried to make it seem like he was using it as an excuse for not being in Scott's life; after all, it is true that he could've simply quit the FBI. At the same time, I wanted to showcase how passionate he was about the work he does. I hope that ended up coming through. And the little extra tidbits about Scott were what I decided to add. I figured it'd be appropriate to give him a college background in veterinary medicine since he now goes to Dr. Deacon for anything supernatural-related be it creatures or medicine.

Like I warned in the first chapter, some details might be completely inaccurate or not even part of the canonical timeline. Still, I'm sure the path I'm taking this story is going to be far away from canon. As such, some occasional discrepancies should be allowed. Otherwise, I don't think this would really be my own story if I tried to stick too much to canonical details.

Anyway, that's all I really have to say. Thanks again for taking the time to read my new chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please don't forget to leave a review and a constructive criticism on what you liked or didn't like. I'm sure you all have an opinion as to what you thought was done well or could be done better. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here everybody!


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, everybody! Here's another weekly update to this story. I honestly don't have much to say this time around, although that's mostly because it's now two in the morning where I'm at. Yes, I need to get some sleep; I'm kind of a nocturnal guy, though. Sleeping at night and being semi-nocturnal doesn't necessarily mix. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get that aspect of me fixed sometime in the near future.

But yeah, tying myself down to making one update every week seems to be working. I've always just created chapters and posted them whenever I wanted to, be it on the next day or a month later. It always lead to inconsistent updates and me eventually falling out of interest with a story. However, being on a once-a-week update schedule has so far kept my interests and focus on one story pretty steady. That's saying something as my imagination is always on overdrive. I'm sure you can tell just by looking at the bunch of unfinished stories I have on here. Those are all products of sudden plot hatching that came at once while I was busy with another story. Yep, too many ideas coming up at once. It's amazing how I survived middle and high school with the way my thought process is always scattered and jumping from one point to another. I guess my personality is a little bit like Stiles', except that he's definitely ADHD and I'm doctor-recommended non-medicated ADD.

Anyway, that's getting off-topic. I would like to thank **icechick94** for becoming a new follower to this story. I'm glad that I've managed to pique your interests enough for you to put it on your radar. As for the rest of you, I thank you for taking the time to have read my last chapter as well as taking the time to read this new one. It's great to see that I haven't bombed this story, at least not yet. Just kidding; it is nice to see you all taking a bit of time from your lives to read what I've created. So thanks again!

Please don't forget to leave a review before you move onto the next story. The constructive criticism is always helpful. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy reading this new chapter!

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"Do you really think you can reach Stiles with that, Scott?" a man asked as he sat on top of an officer's desk. He was dressed in an officer's uniform that had a patch on the arm stating his position as Deputy Sheriff. The uniform was torn in some places, though it still seemed able to withstand more abuse. His blond hair was completely disheveled as if he repeatedly ran his hands through it. There was a pistol in his right hand while the other was counting the clips of ammo on the desk.

"If Sheriff Stilinski was able to reach both my mom and Dr. Deaton with this; I can get Stiles," Scott stubbornly replied as he messed around with a ham radio that was connected to a cell phone. The white shirt underneath his dark brown – practically black in the dim lighting – leather jacket was covered in stains. There were some flecks which looked a lot like blood. "As far as I know, this is the only thing that can cut through all the interference. And besides, I trust your skills in rigging this thing up."

"I think you put too much faith in my improvised craft abilities," the officer deadpanned. "I know I made it, but it's not a great example of MacGyver ingenuity. The range is based on this department's antenna, something that's used only for officer dispatch and two-way radios in town. I'd be amazed if you reached someone outside of Beacon Hills; Sacramento is pretty much impossible!"

"So you're saying I should just give up? There's no way I'm doing that! I'd be damned if I don't warn Stiles about all of this! He needs to know what's going on before he makes his way here!"

"I never said anything about giving up. But still, let's say you do reach him. Don't you think he'll come rushing back the moment you tell him about it? It'd be counter-productive to what you're trying to do!"

"I don't care; I just need to get through to him!" the young man shouted. He had to stop messing with the radio because his hands were shaking. He then let out an aggravated sigh while running his hands through his already messy black hair. "At the least, I want to talk to him one more time in case I… Well, I mean-"

"Don't finish that thought," the deputy sheriff calmly said as he hopped off the desk and walked over to Scott. He then said while placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I won't lie and say that everything will be fine. This town's turned to hell, and the chances of us surviving this are pretty low.

"Still, we're alive now," he continued as he used a hand to force Scott to look directly at him. "You need to concentrate on what your next move will be. Don't let yourself be distracted with what-if scenarios. The moment you do is when you become vulnerable to enemy attacks. That's one of the things they drilled into me when I was in the military. That's how I survived through gun battles; it's how we're going to do it here! You got it, Scott?"

"…Y-Yes, Officer Parrish; g-got it!" Scott managed to stutter after taking a couple shaky breaths.

"That's good. And how many times have I told you to call me Jordan?" the officer asked as he cracked a reassuring smile. This further calmed the other and brought along his own small smile. "I don't think formalities are needed anymore. Now come on; stay relaxed. It'll help you get that thing working faster."

The young man merely nodded as he went back to fiddling with the modified ham radio. Jordan went back to the desk and put the ammo clips into the pouch of his munitions belt. He then holstered his pistol before deciding to take a look around the police station. His right hand stayed near his gun, always at the ready for the next sign of danger.

 _How did this happen?_ Scott thought as he tried dialing Stiles' number. _Everything was okay until a month ago. It was the bizarre sickness followed by a bunch of crazy murders. Now here we are running for our lives while trying to stay away from crazy monster-people! God, I think I'm starting to adopt Stiles' attitude._

 _Seriously, we can't even run a couple blocks before getting attacked by those things! And what the hell are they, anyway? They just attack and kill whatever's in their sights! How're we going to make it out of here alive? Not to mention that my mom's still at the hospital! I don't even know if she's found somewhere to hide!_

"Scott!" Jordan firmly called, quickly walking out of an office that had his name on it. He then took something from one of his pockets and threw it towards the young man. "You're panicking again!"

Scott did not notice his posture and wheezing breaths until it was mentioned. His back was hunched over a desk where he had one hand propping himself up. Realizing he just caught his inhaler, he nodded in thanks and took a couple puffs after a quick shake.

"Stop getting worked up. Not only is it bad for your health; you only have so much of your inhaler left to use."

"S-Sorry, I can't help it," Scott apologized as he straightened his back. There was still a slight wheeze to his breaths, but it no longer sounded potentially problematic. "Th-This's too stressful for me!"

"I know, but you need to try," the deputy sheriff pressed as he sidled up against the wall near a window. He had an eye looking outside while the other made sure Scott properly secured his inhaler. "I promised both your mom and the sheriff I'd keep you safe. You constantly being on the fringe of a pre-asthma or panic attack isn't making it any easier! I need you at your best for both your health and survival! It's the only way we'll have a chance at making it out of this alive!

"And make sure that inhaler stays with you," he added while moving to another nearby window. "I found it just lying on my office's floor. You're lucky I happened to go in there, you know?"

"Th-Thanks, Jordan."

"Thank me by making sure you don't lose it again. I don't want to be the one to tell your mom you died because of a stupid asthma attack!"

Scott simply nodded at Jordan's harsh yet caring tone. If he was to die tonight, he would rather it be while fighting to survive. Kicking the bucket because of his stupid asthma would be extremely embarrassing. It would be a pretty sad death story. Not that intended to die tonight, of course! No, he was going to get out of Beacon Hills alive with his mom, Sheriff Stilinski, and Jordan.

Granted that Scott did not know the deputy sheriff as well as he did Sheriff Stilinski; but he had been Scott's support for the past few days. Whenever the sheriff was out helping who he could and gathering supplies; Jordan protected the station and kept him company. Just as he did earlier, he took care of his asthma and helped him through potential flare-ups. Scott then would be damned if he did not make sure Jordan left with them!

Still, his most important goal right now was to get in touch with Stiles. He was sure that some people were able to leave town. They would probably tell the news stations about what is going on the first chance they had. Something like this would definitely be an attention-grabber, so Stiles would definitely hear about it. The best thing then was to warn him to stay as far away as possible!

"Come on, you stupid machine!" Scott growled after spending another minute fiddling with the frequency knob. Jordan had since relaxed a bit and sat on one of the desks, although he still had a hand on his pistol. "How hard is it to call someone outside of Beacon Hills with this? Just do me this one favor and I promise to never use you again. Please?" he desperately added as he tried once again to call Stiles. It seemed to have heard his pleas as he was greeted with the wonderful sound of a dial tone.

The window suddenly shattering cut his victory short. A heavy thud followed soon after along with an animalistic growl.

Jordan cursed as he shot the intruder. The person, its features akin to someone seriously deformed, cried out in pain as its left shoulder recoiled from the hit. It quickly regained balance and angrily glared at the deputy sheriff with its dull yellow eyes. Its hunched back was arched dangerously, and it made a point to slash the air with its dagger-like nails. He shot at it again, this time closer to the neck, but was met with the same results.

"Come on; we need to go!" he exclaimed while hopping off the desk and hiding behind it. No sooner had he done that did the creature rend through the space he just unoccupied.

"No, not yet!" Scott shouted as he took cover behind the desk the ham radio was on. He was holding onto the phone as though it were his only lifeline. "I just got through. I need to tell Stiles!"

"God damn it, Scott! We don't-" Jordan cut himself off with a scream of surprise.

Scott cautiously peered over the table to see what was going on. He could see Jordan barely managing to scoot out of the creature's sharp nails before delivering a point-blank shot to its head. It then fell into a helpless heap, the floor around it quickly stained crimson thanks to its three new wounds.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of their problems. Another creature jumped through the same window right after the first one died. Jordan was in plain view of it due to his earlier dodging attempt. It made a beeline for him just as he got to his feet. At the same time, he picked up a paperweight from the ground and threw it at the lunging abomination. It struck its forehead and caused it to veer slightly off-course, giving the man the chance to step aside.

"Hey, Scotty; what's going-"

"Oh, thank god I finally got through!" Scott exclaimed as he heard Stiles' voice through the speaker phone function. He ignored both his shuddering breaths and the sounds of mutual combat as he shrunk behind the desk. "Stiles, listen to me! Don't come back here! Just stay where you are! Don't even think about coming home!"

"S-Scott, slow down!" Stiles said in his usual nonchalant way. If he was hearing all the noise on his end, then he was doing a good job ignoring it. "I'm not understanding you. Take a deep breath and talk slowly."

"Look, just don't leave Sacramento!" Scott pleaded, this time taking a couple seconds to steady his breathing. "Don't come home. It's nothing but pure chaos over here!"

"You're breaking up, Scott. Can you repeat what you said?"

"I said to stay where you are; it's not safe here!" he repeated. However, he was greeted with silence. "Stiles?" He stole a quick glance at the phone's screen to see if the line was still connected.

"Sorry, I can't hear you," he heard Stiles apologizing as the sound of a desk breaking echoed throughout the police department. "There's a lot of interference. If you can hear me, then let me just say it's too late. I've already passed the Beacon Hills sign. I should be in the town itself in a few minutes."

"You're what? _!_ " Scott screamed the same time the creature let out a disturbing screech.

"Damn, dude; what's your problem? _!_ Are you trying to get me killed by playing the psycho phone messenger?"

"Don't come over here! Just turn your jeep around and stay away, Stiles!" he desperately pleaded.

"Alright, this is getting ridiculous!" Stiles groaned impatiently. "Look, I'm gonna stop by the diner to grab some food. We can meet up there and you can tell me what's bothering you. That okay?"

"No, Stiles; you can't-"

The table he was hiding behind suddenly splintered into dozens of pieces. The phone he was holding was violently pulled out of his hands. At the same time, he saw the ham radio fall beside him and break apart. Turning around, he could see the creature staring him down with its yellow eyes as though he were its next meal.

Blood and bits of brain suddenly splattered from its head as a shot rang out. It fell to its side with a weak cry before becoming forever silent.

"You okay, Scott?" Jordan asked as he ran up to the young man's side. Considering what had just happened, the man seemed relatively calm apart from the heavy breathing. He extended an arm which the other happily took.

"Y-Yeah," Scott hastily replied, clearly still shaken up by the experience. "I-I just spoke with Stiles. He said he's almost here!"

"What? _!_ " the deputy sheriff exclaimed before letting out a frustrated growl. "Even when he doesn't mean to; he always manages to find or attract trouble. Did he tell you where he was going?"

"To the diner. I'm sure he's talking about his favorite one. It's not too far from here; we can make it there in no time!"

"Then let's get going! We can't stay here any longer!"

"B-But what about my mom and the sheriff?" Scott protested.

"Sheriff Stilinski and I already agreed on a backup location should this place fall," Jordan explained as he pushed the other towards the back door. He dared to go through the front since that was the window the creatures broke through. He made one last check of the area he was at before the chaos happened before bursting through the door with his gun drawn. "It's clear!" he announced a moment later. "Let's go!"

"So we're gonna get Stiles and meet up with my mom and the sheriff?" Scott asked as he followed the other to a nearby police cruiser.

"That's the plan. After that, we get the hell out of here! I'm sure we can take the same way Stiles came through."

Jordan had just unlocked the car when a loud screech cut through their short conversation. A third creature then landed on the other side of the car, clearly having jumped from the roof. He immediately ducked behind the car and shot at it.

"Damn, this's ridiculous!" he growled as another appeared to take the newly deceased one's place. "Get in now, Scott!"

Scott had no chance to comply as yet another creature landed in the space between him and Jordan. It was all he could do to keep from falling as he stumbled backwards. Jordan had started to say something, but it was drowned out by the sharp sound of scratching metal followed by another gunshot. That was enough to draw the creature's attention, and the young man took the chance to turn around and make a run for it.

"Watch out!" he heard the deputy sheriff warn as he continued to run. He then heard a loud curse a couple seconds later. "Damn it; why now? _!_ "

"Anytime now, Jordan!" Scott exclaimed as he continued running.

He was about to take his chances with the main street before noticing something in the corner of his eye. It was a simple black and chrome-colored motorcycle that had been parked away from any of the lot's exits. Next to it was a large metal trash bin with a couple wooden planks sticking out of it.

"Aw, what the hell!" he whined before making a beeline to the trash bin. He was glad he did, though, when he felt a stiff breeze and a low growl blow right past his ear.

Scott made it to the bin a few seconds later. Wasting no time, he pulled one of the planks out. It was longer than he thought, and he had a hard time handling its size. However, the sight of the creature rushing towards him again caused him to instinctively thrust it. It made contact and earned him a pained growl from his attacker. He wasted no time raising the plank above the fallen creature and smashed it over its head. The sound of splintering wood combined with the sickening crunch of its skull caused him to flinch.

"Damn, that was intense!" Scott heavily breathed as he watched the creature struggle to get up. The damage was too severe, however; its movements quickly shifted from frantic to lethargic. Whatever triumph he felt at the victory was quickly cast aside as he remembered about Jordan's predicament.

"Persistent bastard!" he heard the deputy sheriff shout as he looked over to his position.

He was still standing by the police car, the driver's side door now opened. However, he was engaged in a fist fight with the second creature that ambushed them. His gun laid forgotten beside him on the ground, but he seemed to have little need for it as the battle was clearly in his favor.

Punch after punch was thrown at the creature's head and other exposed areas, and each hit pushed it back towards the car door. Once it was there, he delivered a mean uppercut to the jaw which caused it to fall onto its back. He then quickly placed its head in the path of the door and reached for the handle. Scott knew what was coming next and diverted his gaze before the sound of crushed bones and brains reached his ears.

"We're not wasting anymore time; just take your motorcycle!" Jordan instructed after noticing where Scott was standing. He reopened the car door and kicked the creature's corpse aside. "You still have your keys with you, right?"

It took a moment for Scott to realize what the question was before he started digging in his jacket pockets. He then pulled out a keychain with a few keys on it and raised it above his head for the deputy sheriff to see.

"Good, then you go pick up Stiles while I go to our backup meetup spot! I need to make sure the place is safe. You know where it is?" he asked before closing the door and rolling down the window.

"You never told me!"

"Really? Well, it's at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. It's in a quieter part of town, so there shouldn't be too much activity going on." The car's engine then roared to life and immediately backed out of its space. Another creature jumped down from the police station's roof, but Jordan quickly ran it over with the car. He then stopped it next to Scott, the hood bloodied and its tires tracing blood from the flattened victim. Scott tried to ignore it and instead concentrated his sights on the man. "Go there after you get Stiles. We'll then wait for you guys' parents before figuring out a way to get out of this town! Got it?"

"Got it!" the other acknowledged as he started his engine. He then backed it up until he was parallel with the police car and facing the lot exit.

"Good. Now good luck and stay smart out there!" Jordan then drove off the parking lot, the tires squealing a bit from the sudden burst of acceleration. It then disappeared from view as it made a right turn towards the vet clinic.

 _I hope he'll be fine. And god, I hope Stiles won't play stupid and try to make a run for it!_ Scott hoped as he made his way onto the street just as more creatures appeared in the now vacant lot.

* * *

And yes, that's the end to this action-packed chapter! I really had a lot of fun making this. As much as I like to write action scenes, doing such things is one of my weaker points as a writer. I tend to have trouble finding a way to make an action scene flow at a smooth pace while also trying to make it last longer than just half-a-page. For those of you who read my Pokemon story, _Journey of a Lifetime,_ that was my first attempt at making a story with quite a bit of action scenes to it. I intend to finish it, but I'm right now on a hiatus moment because I wanted to refine my skills on action scenes. I'm not exactly happy with how those scenes turned out.

With that said, I'm relatively happy with how the action for this chapter turned out. I tried to keep it interesting by adding new scenarios to the chaos at hopefully appropriate times. I also chose to keep the narration at third-person limited, meaning that you all could only see and hear what Scott was experiencing. So if you felt that there were times where you wanted to know what was happening, like when Scott was talking to Stiles, I'm afraid that you can only imagine it. The view was outside of Scott's range of vision, so I can't tell you what he saw; only what he heard. It's kind of my way of implementing the show, don't tell clause that writers mostly have to adhere to. After all, what's the fun of reading if we have to tell you readers every single thing that's happening?

But yes, I am relatively happy with the action scenes for this chapter. I thought it would be a nice contrast to Stiles' otherwise calm introduction to the chaos his life has turned into. Scott has already been through this for two weeks, so it's natural for him to already be frightened to the level that he is. It was my way of setting the scene as to how dangerous these creatures are. And yes, I already know what these creatures are; I'm sure some of you also already know based on the sparsely mentioned yet obvious clues if you managed to catch it. Regardless, you can see how persistent the creatures are and how hard it is to survive such persistence and numbers. If the attack on the police department is any indication, Beacon Hills seems royally screwed at this point!

So yeah, I thank you all for taking the time to read this new chapter. I hope you all enjoyed the action packed into this, and I guarantee that there's only going to be more from this point forward. And if it was too graphic for some of you, I'm sorry. To be honest, I've already posted the bare minimum of graphic details before it just sounds like things are blatantly missing. I'm not an overtly graphic writer myself; I couldn't write a sex scene if my life depended on it! So you don't have to worry about extreme gore if any of you are wondering about that.

And that's it! Thanks again to you all for reading. Please don't forget to leave a review before moving onto the next story you want to read. Any kind of constructive criticism is appreciated. Even a simple congratulatory review would be fine; although I would prefer something constructive as it will help me better my writing skills as well as see any concerns that you as a reader might have as to certain parts of the story. Thanks for you time, and I hope to see you all again on the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, everybody! I honestly don't have much to say this time around, but that's because it's now half past four in the morning for me. I'm dead tired from cramming three days of writing into four hours. That's what a perpetual writer's block over the entire week can do to you. I'm going to bed now.

But before I do, let me thank you all for taking the time to read this new chapter. Please don't forget to leave a constructive review before you move onto the next story you want to read! Thanks, and I hope to see you all on the next update!

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Driving through the streets of Beacon Hills was not as it used to be over two weeks ago. Back then, Scott enjoyed showing off his new motorcycle as he rode around town, earning him the occasional turn of a head or two. His show-off was rather low-key, though, merely content at being seen but not heard. He never had a moment of unreasonably loud engine revs or rudely cut in-between occupied lanes. It was more of a practical model than a flashy powerhouse, after all. People also liked that he kept his boyishly dense persona instead of adopting a badass hardcore biker attitude.

Now, there was nobody around to admire his motorcycle and driving skills. They were either trying to run away or in hiding. If any did manage to see him in the streets, Scott was sure none would care. After all, they were probably more interested in seeing police or the military out with their guns ablaze.

That said, the streets were eerily quiet. While the purr of his motorcycle was the only thing keeping him company; it made him nervous. He knew this part of town well since he took this route to and from the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic where he worked. There was always some traffic since the town's first LGBTQ bar, popular with even the straight crowd, was on the block. He also often snuck out with Stiles during their Junior and Senior high school days for nights of drinking and dancing; he had firsthand knowledge about how area was supposed to be. So to see the entire area abandoned was unsettling.

Further on down the road, Scott saw cars either abandoned or totaled in crashes. There were a couple creatures around of the wrecks; a group was directly in the path he wanted to take. Against his better judgement, he turned into a dim street in an attempt at a detour. Considering the other street he could have chosen, one which was clearly infested with murderous creatures, a badly lit route seemed better.

 _Things are getting worse every day!_ Scott thought as he slowed a bit. The new street was dotted with various pieces of car debris. The last thing he wanted was to hit something and put his only form of transportation out of commission. There were also a couple of street lamps fallen against buildings and electrical poles with their cables snapped and sparking dangerously. In some buildings where the power was still on, he could see silhouettes peaking around the edges before quickly retreating out of sight.

 _If people are staying behind for no reason, they're crazy! At least I have a good reason for staying behind. Then again, I'm crazy enough to go out of hiding to get to Stiles,_ he admitted with a sigh while carefully driving around a live wire. _I bet he'd say I'm calling the kettle black if he were here._

"The hell you're doing?" a voice suddenly shouted. A loud clatter followed immediately after it. "Get out of here!"

Coming to a stop, Scott tried to figure out where the sounds came from. There were no people on the street, and nobody was shouting through one of the buildings' windows. He even looked up at some of the rooftops, but the poor lighting made it pretty hard to see through the backdrop of the dark night sky.

Unfortunately, the voice became the least of his concerns. Scott heard threatening growls coming from the direction he just came from. Turning around, he saw some creatures, most likely the ones he passed earlier, coming towards him. The number quickly grew as more came out from wherever they were hiding. Most had their hands in front of them, their sharp nails spread apart in preparation for an attack. Others had their mouths open, their tongues licking their teeth as though eager for dinner. He had no idea if it was his motorcycle or the shouts that drew them here. All he knew was that things were turning bad really fast.

"Don't stand there like a damned deer!" the unknown man yelled, breaking Scott out of his panicked trance. "You're an open target!" A gunshot then broke through the air, causing the creature nearest Scott to collapse.

"Wh-What's going on? _!_ " he called out. While he was panicking; he wondered where, not who, the person helping him was.

"Just get out of there!" the person demanded as another shot rang out. "Come on; help me out!"

Scott wanted to ask how he could help, but he decided against it and tried to get himself out of the mess. He failed to get far, however, as one of the creatures suddenly jumped into his path. He tried to swerve around it, but his slow momentum resulted in a total stop instead. He was close enough to notice its striking red eyes before leaning into his motorcycle to duck away from a murderous set of nails.

He let out a determined cry while throwing a couple of desperate punches. One of them managed to make contact with a part of its body. However, it did nothing but make the monster more determined to kill him. He tried to get his motorcycle going but found it impossible while dodging repeated swipes at his chest.

"Damn it, leave me alone!"

A gunshot pierced the air a second later. The creature immediately fell backwards just as it was about to lean in and bite Scott. It was now lying on the ground, its body twitching slightly as its life slowly dwindled away. Its forehead now sported a gunshot wound that had a trickle of blood oozing out.

"Thanks!" he shakily called out.

"Thank me by getting out of here, you slowpoke!" the unknown man growled as he took down another incoming monster.

Scott once again tried to drive away from the impending sea of doom. Unfortunately, the street before him was now filled with incoming danger.

"Aw, hell no!" the mysterious man exclaimed, clearly having seen the new development. Scott frantically turned his head towards both ends of the street, his mind starting to sink back to a panicked trance. "Now what?"

"The alleyway!" another voice, this one belonging to a woman, barked. "To your left!"

Scott's mind had gone blank with fear. He could only see and hear the growls of many monsters closing in around him. His breaths were grew shallower with each passing second. It threatened to overwhelm him with another panic attack.

"I'm talking to you, motorcycle boy! Go through the alley!"

The woman's shrill shout was able to break Scott out of his near-panic attack. He looked in the direction the woman said and saw the alleyway. He could tell that the entrance was going to barely be enough to drive through because of an overturned tanker truck blocking part of it. There was hardly any light, but it did have a clear view of another street. That was enough for him to consider it his next best move. He had no idea if the alley or street beyond it was free of murderous creatures. Still, he knew it was better than waiting to be killed by a monster mosh pit of claws and teeth.

Scott took a deep breath to calm himself before quickly redirecting his motorcycle. He made sure he was lined up with the alley entrance. After a moment of hesitation, he hit the gas. He had to keep his body as small as possible as a couple of creatures tried to throw him off his motorcycle with their bodies. He was tempted to swerve every time, but he knew it would ruin what might be his only chance at getting away.

For him, the few seconds to reach the alley felt like minutes in his panicked mind. He was snapped back into real time, though, when he felt his left arm barely brushing against the overturned tanker. His front wheel then buckled slightly when the right handlebar grazed the wall, causing him to wobble a bit. He managed to recover, however, and continued on through the remarkably barren alleyway.

"Now, Boyd!" he heard a third person shout. He could not tell if the person was man or woman as a heavy screeching noise nearly drowned out the words.

Scott had barely exited the alley and turned onto the new street when he heard a gunshot followed by an explosion. He actually had to stop driving to make sure he would not be knocked to the ground.

"What the hell? _!_ " he exclaimed. He looked over to where he just came from, the intense orange glow guiding his eyes in that direction. "What was that?"

The buildings blocked his view of the monster-ridden street. However, he could see the sky above awash in flickers of orange. He could hear things crashing to the ground along with a few smaller explosions. There were also loud growls of distress from the creatures caught in the blast. Whatever had just happened, Scott was sure it came from where he just escaped from.

"They caused it, didn't they? Damn, they're crazy!"

Scott spent a couple more seconds marveling at the chaos. The growls had quickly died down and were replaced with the sounds of licking flames. He could feel the intense heat despite there being a couple buildings in the way.

"…I gotta get going," he murmured with a sigh as he got his motorcycle moving again. "I need to get to Stiles before one of those creatures does first."

Thankfully, Scott recognized the new street and realized he was close to the diner. It was only a couple more blocks away, and he used this realization to encourage him on. All that was in his way now were a few creatures that came out of hiding after the explosion. While they did seem more lethargic than the ones from earlier; he refused to let his guard down.

It took another minute of driving before the diner finally came into view. Just seeing the sign was already a celebratory moment. What made him really happy and relieved, though, was the familiar sight of Stiles' old but reliable jeep resting in the parking lot. There was no damage apart from the scratches he remembered from when Stiles left Beacon Hills. He allowed himself a breath of relief at the sight.

 _Looks like he's made it,_ he sighed as he pulled up next to the vehicle. He could hear its engine clicking, indicating it had just stopped. It further assured him at the potential of his best friend's safety. He dismounted his motorcycle and walked up to one of the jeep's windows to take a look inside. _At least there aren't any fast food bags in the back seat. I hope he still has that baseball bat with him, though._

A loud shatter suddenly pulled Scott from his thoughts. It took him a second to realize it came from the diner. Finally having a look at the building, he saw that the lights were on. Apart from that, he was unable to see what had broken. He assumed then that it came from somebody inside – Stiles, he hoped – dropping something.

What Scott heard next caused his blood to run ice cold. It was an ear-shattering scream! However, it was not the intense level of sheer terror that was the cause. No, it was the fact that he recognized the vocal tone behind it.

"Stiles! _!_!"

Scott had no idea what happened next. All he knew was that he was by Stiles' jeep one moment and bursting through the diner doors in another.

"Stay back, you sick monster!" he heard his friend shout. Turning his attention towards the counter, Scott saw his best friend behind it with a steak knife in his right hand. Standing on the customer side was one of the creatures getting ready to climb over the blockade.

"Stiles!" he instinctively shouted. It caused both occupants to shift their attention on him.

"Scott? _!_ " Stiles exclaimed. His expression was a mix of both fear and relief. "What're you- Watch out!"

The creature immediately made a beeline towards Scott after noticing him. Its blood red eyes were now trained on the man's frozen form. However, Stiles barely managed to stab the knife into its exposed left arm when it turned around. After letting out a painful roar, it brought its attention back to Stiles.

"How'd you like that, dumbass? Nobody threatens Scott while I'm around!" he spat out. His bravado was short-lived, however, as he quickly ducked behind the counter to avoid a lunge from the creature. It landed in a pile of dirty dishes, causing a noisy chaos of breaking plates and fallen utensils to echo in the diner.

"Stiles?" Scott called out as he dared to get closer to the counter. His worry dissipated when he saw a familiar head of short-cut black hair bobbing along towards the counter divider. A second later, Stiles crawled away from the counter before getting to his feet.

"Damn, you've no idea how glad I am to see you!" Stiles exclaimed while dramatically raising his arms above him. He then close the distance and gave Scott an extremely firm hug.

"Same for me!" Scott breathed out as he returned the hug. "You know how scared I was when I heard you were coming here? Why didn't you listen to me and turn around?"

"Because I could barely hear you." They now separated but kept their faces so close that their faces were almost touching. "You had so much static going on during the call; I'm amazed you even got through to me! Now I know why you were so panicky. And besides, do you really think I'd just run away when you give me reason to be worried?"

"I figured I'd try. I've been surviving in this hell for the past two weeks. I wouldn't ask for the person I hated most to spend even a day through this!"

Stiles was about to open his mouth when a growl caught their attention. Looking over to where the creature had crashed, they saw it getting up. There were bits of porcelain and utensils sticking out from its body. It did not seem to notice, however, as it merely stared at the pair the moment it saw them. They both also just stared back at it; Scott hoped that it would get bored and forget about them. It then flashed its claws and let out a threatening growl.

"Okay, time to go," Stiles said with a nervous laugh. "Nice playing with you, but we got some things to do now. So if you don't mind us leaving?"

The creature answered by once again lunging towards them. The two men immediately made a run for the door, leaving just in time to avoid getting impaled by sharp nails. Thankfully, the monster's miss meant that its hands were now stuck in the ground. It gave them enough time to run outside while it struggled to free itself.

"Alright, we need to get out of here!" Scott exclaimed as they ran away from the diner. Stiles, however, made a beeline straight for his jeep. "You still got your keys?" he asked while following closely behind.

"Yeah, duh!" Stiles replied as he pulled said keys from his jeans pocket and jangled it loudly above him. He then unlocked the door and quickly got inside. "I'm a hyperactive klutz, not a scatterbrained item-loser." The other gave him a skeptical look as he sat on the passenger's seat. "Okay, so I am a bit scatterbrained. But I don't just spontaneously lose important things like Roscoe's keys!"

A loud shatter drew their attention back to the diner where the creature just jumped out into the parking lot. It gave a quick glance around before resting its sights on the two inside the jeep.

"Screw you, idiot!" Stiles shouted as he started the engine and flew out of the parking lot. The creature tried to give chase but quickly lost sight of them. "Oh yeah, that's score one for the BF team!"

"Don't celebrate too much," Scott warned as they drove down random streets. Strangely enough, the path he was taking hardly had any major debris blocking the way. Still, there were signs of destruction and the occasional creature or two wandering around. "We're never gonna be safe until we get out of here."

"So you're saying we should make a beeline outta here? I'm with you, dude. Just say the word and we'll ditch this town faster than you thought possible!"

"No, not yet, Stiles. I still need to go somewhere."

"You want to stay in here longer? You already said you've been through this for two weeks! I thought you'd jump at the chance of getting out!" Stiles suddenly stopped talking as Scott noticed the realization dawning on his face. "Oh, your mom's still in here, isn't she?" Scott merely nodded. "Damn, I got so excited seeing you that I forgot about her. Hell, I even managed to forget about my own dad! Is he okay? Do you know where he is?"

"I-I don't know, Stiles. When I last saw the sheriff, he was trying to get to the hospital where my mom's at. That was a couple hours ago; I haven't seen him since. I was supposed to wait at the police station for them to come back, but those things ended up taking it over. I barely managed to get out alive!"

"Then we need to go to the hospital!"

"No, we don't!" Scott exclaimed. "You know your dad can take care of himself. He's already worried enough about what you're gonna do once you realize what's going on here. The fact he believes you're safe is the only thing keeping his performance at its highest!

"And besides, I already know where he's going once he finds my mom," he added as Stiles' shoulders slumped after hearing the explanation. "Just take us there, and we'll wait for them to come. Then we can get out of here together!"

Scott could tell Stiles was seriously thinking about ignoring what he just said. They have been friends for years; he knew how unreasonable he could get when it came to his dad's safety. At the same time, he could tell his best friend was fighting his impulsive instinct to help his dad ill-regard to how dangerous it would be for everyone.

"Where'd you two agree to meet?" Stiles asked with a heavy sigh.

"At the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic," Scott replied while placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder that was both in thanks and reassurance. "It's supposed to be our backup meeting place, but your dad will know I'm there the moment he sees the police station ruined."

"To the clinic it is then? You hear that, Roscoe? We need to make a couple stops before we can get outta here!"

Scott saw Stiles shoot him a half-smirk that looked almost cocky as he carefully drove through the streets. However, he knew better and understood it to be his way of expressing concern. Unfortunately, there was hardly anything they could do. All that can be done was to get to the clinic and hope the sheriff and his mom would be there waiting for them.

* * *

And that's it for this chapter. Sorry if the ending sounds a bit rushed and unpolished. Like I said earlier, it's half past four for me, and I wrote the ending of this chapter when it was four in the morning. I just wanted to get it over with and end it as best as I could. It just barely passes off as how I imagined the end of this chapter to be, but I know it could be better. Oh well, so sue me that my mind's too tired now to really make it any better.

And yes, I'm aware that some of you might say this chapter can be split in two; from the point after the creature horde escape being one chapter and the life-and-death reunion being the second chapter. The only problem with that is that the two chapters would be extremely short and not enough to even be considered as a single one.

Also, I'm sure you all noticed the cameo appearance of Boyd. A lot of characters will be making cameo appearances in this story. The reason for that is because I'm planning on doing a separate story for them once I've finished this. This particular story is all about Scott and Stiles; telling side stories about multiple other people will just distract from that goal. At least you all can see where I'm going with the story now.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Please don't forget to leave a constructive review before moving onto the next story you want to read. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories!


	6. Chapter 6

Hello, everybody! Welcome to the next chapter in this story. I do hope, though, that you all enjoyed the last chapter and the amount of action I put into it. At least Scott and Stiles are finally reunited and can work together to survive the creature-ridden town.

I honestly don't have much to say here, and it's not because of me being up late with insomnia this time around. It's like one in the morning where I'm at, so I'm not exactly tired yet. Still, I should probably go to bed after getting this chapter posted. However, let me say that I hope you all have some inkling as to what I have planned for this story based on the information I posted within the story. I'll admit, though, that it might be hard to notice, but there have been small mentions as to what the true plot of this story will be. That's all I'll say.

Before I let you all read the new chapter, let me say thanks to **Saevitis** for both following my story and putting it as your favorite. Thank you for your support, and I hope you all will continue to enjoy this story as the chapters come along! Please don't forget to leave a review before you leave, though. I'm just waiting to see who will be my first reviewer for this story and will have earned the distinction of having broken the proverbial reviewer ice. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"So you've been hanging out with my dad since the start," Stiles concluded as he drove past a couple creatures that seemed preoccupied with something. "Nice to know he's still trying to help others through all this craziness. He's really got the heart of a true sheriff!" he proudly boasted. He then asked in a wistful tone, "Do you think he's doing alright on his own? I mean, I know he's out helping your mom, but these things aren't joking around!" Scott simply shrugged, his mind seemingly half-engaged in the conversation.

The two had been driving through the chaotic streets of Beacon Hills for a little over ten minutes. Normally, the time from the police department to the animal clinic would be that long. Because of all the chaos, however, Stiles had to drive cautiously to avoid hitting anything. That and he had to take long detours to get around streets that were made inaccessible either by bad accidents or strategic police blockades. While a longer trip, at least it had been uneventful for the most part.

To pass the time, they talked about what had happened over the past two weeks. Rather, it was just Scott retelling his escapades and near-death experiences to Stiles who, for once, had no commentary to add. He was too amazed at how much had happened during the six months he had been training in Sacramento. If they had talked about this over the phone, Stiles was sure he would question his rational best friend's sanity. Creatures of death wreaking havoc all over town was something you hear only in movies and video games. Things like that just do not happen in real life!

Seeing his hometown torn apart from the inside-out with his own eyes, however, proved he was wrong. Granted that he had not been exposed to the horrors as long as Scott has been; he was already afraid after seeing what was once only alive through sick imaginations trying to kill him. To hear that Scott survived this for two weeks both amazed and worried him. At the same time, he admired his normally skeptical friend's ability at having adapted so quickly. It did make him wonder, though, if he survived being a frontline man or a tagalong.

"Don't give me that look, Stiles," Scott said, breaking Stiles from his thoughts.

"What look?"

"The one you get after thinking on someone's misfortune for so long that you start to pity them."

"Oh, you're the last person I'd think about throwing a pity party, Scott," Stiles said with a frown. "I know and respect you more than that. What I'm worried about is the affect this all has on you. I mean, you have freaking asthma – thank god it's not bad like when we were kids, but still! I'm sure you had more than a few attacks from all the running and screaming you've been doing. Do you even still have your inhaler, or do I need to stop by a pharmacy?"

"What makes you think I screamed my head off?" Stiles dared a glance over at his best friend and saw him with a defensive pout as he flashed his inhaler. "I'm not your stereotypical male version of a damsel in distress."

"It's _damoiseau_ ," Stiles randomly blurted. Scott cast him a confused look. "You know, the man version of a damsel. It's what we learned back in high school French. Unless you're trying to discreetly tell me you're in the middle of a gender transition," he added with a playful brow wiggle.

"I'm serious, Stiles! It doesn't matter what I am; I'm not a useless screamer! I took care of myself pretty well when I was escaping the police station with Jordan."

"Who's Jordan? Is he a new friend? Or is he something more than that?" Stiles prodded. As inappropriate the moment was, he was happy to be able to be having fun at his best friend's expense.

"He's your dad's new deputy sheriff!" Scott growled. "He's been here for four months; I only met him two weeks ago. We're nothing more than mutual survivors. When will you stop playing it up like I'm not straight?"

"After you stop blushing from when people bring up you drunk dancing with Danny and kissing him at our high school graduation party. You can't blame them wanting to question your sexuality since you kissed your gay friend."

"You just said it; we were drunk! Neither of us knew what we were doing!

"And besides, we're getting off topic!" Scott desperately changed back to the original topic. Stiles noticed that his face had turned beet red from his prodding. "Just because I scream or do other heavy breathing things doesn't mean I'll be having asthma attacks! I wouldn't have made it into our high school lacrosse team otherwise. If anything, I thought I'd see _you_ having a panic attack and forgetting about _your_ inhaler!"

"I haven't had a panic attack for a few years already," Stiles proudly said while carefully maneuvering Roscoe through some debris. He had taken Scott's hint and completely dropped the embarrassing topic. "The last time was when we almost got kidnapped! I think it's a given, though, since they cut us loose after that. Believe me, I've got it under control.

"But if I did have one during police training, I would've been suffering through this with you at the very beginning! Trust me; they can put you through some pretty crazy stuff that'd be panic-worthy moments! They do that to see who's in tip-top shape and not shutting down over every little thing."

"Don't change subjects again! Do you know how worried I was when you said you were coming? I know you run on constant anxiety – don't even think about denying it!" Scott quickly added just as Stiles opened his mouth. "That's the one thing I'm scared about when it comes to you, that you'll shut down when things go beyond south. You almost sent _me_ into a panic attack when you said you'll be training to be an officer! You're a recklessly klutzy guy. I wouldn't be surprised if an officer told me you managed to shoot yourself!"

"Gee, now look who's changing subjects," Stiles murmured as he rolled his eyes. "Scott, I know you worry about me just as much as I do with you. You need to have some more faith in me, though. I'm not as reckless and klutzy as you think since I did manage to pass the training. I only came back here to do my probationary work.

"And did I act like a klutz back at the diner?" he added proudly. They had just passed by a group of the creatures blocking access to a street he wanted to take. Thankfully, they seemed too engrossed with an abandoned car to notice them. "If I remember right, I gave that thing a good stab. I saved you from becoming monster bait!"

"By almost completely missing it?" Scott deadpanned, his tone now less strained. "And I thought close combat was part of the police training."

"Perps itching for a fight don't usually decide to turn around. Then again, I don't think that thing was even human to begin with. I was trying to hit its shoulder when you shouted and got its attention!"

"Are you sure you didn't just stab at it spontaneously? I know you have a habit of doing stupidly random things."

"Oh, shut up, Scott!" Stiles growled, making it a point to ignore the blatant smirk in his best friend's tone. "Just be happy you're still alive."

"To be with you again? Yes. To have you playing cop and protecting me? Well…" The smirk had morphed into an obvious impish grin.

"Why you-"

Something falling onto the street suddenly caught their attention. Despite driving under the speed limit, Stiles barely managed to avoid hitting it before stopping next to whatever had fallen.

"What the hell? _!_ " he exclaimed after putting Roscoe in park. "What's that?"

"I-I don't know!" Scott stammered as he looked out the passenger window. Stiles did the same and saw that it did look like a person. At least, the body was wearing actual clothes unlike the torn shreds that hung off of most creatures. They were lying face-down, but that was all he could tell since there was no power coming to the street. The only reliable light source around came from Roscoe's headlights.

"Is it dead?" The figure slowly tried to get to their feet. "Well, that's one way to answer my question."

"Hey, you okay?" Scott asked after rolling down the window. They could now hear the clearly human groans accompanying the effort. "You need help?"

"Damn, that drop was further than I thought. A bit more painful, too," the person, clearly a man, groaned as he stood on shaky legs. To Stiles, he looked a bit taller than Scott, his skinny frame making his limbs appear longer than they were. He then noticed the two once he got his bearings. "Wh-Who're you guys? What're you doing here?" he asked, both his voice and body language reflecting panic.

"Whoa, calm down, dude." Stiles raised his hands in peace when he noticed the man was ready to run. "I'm Stiles; this's Scott. Who're you?"

"I-I'm Isaac," the man hesitantly introduced himself. "I'm just trying to survive out here. What're you guys doing?"

"We're trying to get somewhere. It hasn't been easy with a lot of the streets blocked, but we're managing."

"Where're you trying to go?" Isaac asked as he slowly walked towards the jeep. There was still panic in his voice, but it was now laced with caution.

"To the animal clinic," Scott answered. "We're going there to meet up with some friends before getting out of here."

"The animal clinic? Are you talking about the one where Alan works?"

"You mean Dr. Deaton?" He was answered with a curt nod. "Yeah, that's the place. I'm not sure if he's there, but I doubt it. Do you know him?"

"Enough to see him as a friend," Isaac said.

He was now close enough for Roscoe's headlights to catch some of his features. He had a sort of baby face; it was hard to tell if he was younger or older than them. He had short light blond – almost chestnut brown – hair with curls in it every now and then. His face looked a mess, no doubt from the fall he just took, and his clothes had definitely seen better days. They were still wearable apart from the many rips and stains on his white shirt and blue jeans; yet the worn dark blue scarf wrapped lightly around his neck appeared relatively clean.

"I'm sorry if this's too sudden, but can I hitch a ride with you guys?" he asked, stopping a few feet away. "That's actually where I'm going, too."

"Of course," Scott immediately replied. "Hop on in."

"Hold on a minute, Scott," Stiles cut in. It caused Isaac to stop what little advancement he made towards them. "Roscoe's my car. I like to think I have a say as to who gets to ride in him."

"Really, Stiles? Are you're saying we should just abandon someone who clearly needs our help?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it! I'm just saying we should think about it for a moment. I mean, a bit of paranoia amidst a potential prelude to the apocalypse is a great trait to have."

A sharp sound akin to a gunshot suddenly echoed through the empty street. The ground next to Isaac's feet let loose a few sparks, causing him to jump out of the way. He then turned to stare at the building behind him.

"I found the target!" they heard a woman exclaim. "I've got a clear view, but there's a couple of people in the area."

Scott and Stiles looked around in an attempt to see where the woman was. However, the street was too dark apart from where Roscoe's headlights were shining. They could not figure out where she was.

Turning his attention towards Isaac, Stiles noticed he kept his eyes on the building he first looked at. All the lights were off, and there was no way to see anything but the brick wall and the pitch-black windows. Still, he kept on staring as though he knew exactly where the woman was.

"Understood," she curtly replied. There was then a sound Stiles recognized from his training as a gun being readied to fire. "Today's your lucky day, kids. You'll be free from this hell sooner than you think."

"Wait; that's not what your brother's orders are!" a man's deep voice quickly exclaimed in response to her sadistic tone. "We're only supposed to neutralize the threats and destroy the cause of it."

"As if he knows how important all this really is," she flippantly spat out. Scott and Stiles were still trying to locate the two mysterious people, but Stiles was slowly starting to get a bad feeling and readying his foot to hit the gas. "It's true that all evidence leading to the company's involvement must be destroyed. However, all witnesses to the results of the company's actions should be killed, as well. After all, think about how hard it'd be for me to personally take them down if the government learns about it. They'll get involved, and it'll keep me from getting my revenge against that Hale bastard!"

Without any warning, the three were suddenly surrounded by a hail of gunfire! Scott immediately ducked into the dashboard in an attempt to keep from getting shot. Stiles reached for his side out of reflex but quickly realized he had no gun with him. As such, he did the next best thing and floored it.

"Hey, wait for me!" Isaac shouted as he jumped towards the now fleeing vehicle. He just barely managed to grab ahold of the car door and was now being dragged away at an increasing speed.

"S-Slow down, Stiles!" Scott shouted as he began pulling Isaac inside.

"And get pumped full of lead by some psychotic lady? No thanks!" Stiles continued to race down the street, no longer caring if he ran over bits of debris. He could see sparks through the side mirrors where the bullets were hitting Roscoe.

"Then at least stop driving like a maniac so I can climb in!" Isaac exclaimed as the top half of his body now laid on Scott's lap. It took a few more seconds before he was completely in the jeep, his body now smothering Scott's and his scarf undone on the floor. "I almost lost my grip when you ran over a power pole!"

"Nobody told you to hitch a ride!"

"It was a fight or flight reaction! I wasn't gonna stay there and get pumped full of bullets while my only escape is driving away!"

"That's enough, you two!" Scott's muffled voice came through Isaac's shoulder. After a bit of shuffling, he finally freed his mouth from its prison. "Just get us to Deaton's clinic, Stiles! If those two people attacked us for no reason; there's no telling how many are out there ready to kill the next moving target. We need to team back up with your dad and my mom and get the hell out of here!"

Just as Stiles turned the corner, the three heard a loud pop. One of the tires got blown out. Whether it was from a bullet or a piece of sharp debris, they did not know. All they knew was that Roscoe was now swerving as it tried to compensate for the loss of balance and traction.

Stiles cursed as he managed to steady the vehicle. They were thankfully now out of the woman's range of sight, so it gave him a chance to drive slower in order to lessen the risk of spinning out.

"How much worse can this night get?" he groaned while lovingly patting Roscoe's dashboard. "Sorry for putting you through all this, buddy. You're gonna get the full special treatment the moment we- Oh, for the love of…!"

Stiles was forced to a stop when he saw a police barricade a few yards away. He chose this street in a panic earlier and was rewarded with a dead-end. At least he subconsciously was still in the right direction to the animal clinic. Still, they were now trapped between a road block and two trigger-happy people behind them.

"We're not gonna walk the rest of the way there, are we?" Scott asked.

"Well, you can't just plow through the blockade," Isaac said as he opened the car door and stepped outside. "And we're not gonna stay here and act as easy targets for that crazy lady or any nearby monsters. I hate to say this, but the best thing to do is to keep on moving."

"That's the best of our available bad ideas, huh?" Stiles sarcastically asked as he climbed out of Roscoe. Scott followed suit as he breathed a sigh of relief at no longer being squashed. He also picked up the fallen scarf and handed it to Isaac's thankful hands. "I guess it's better than nothing. But where exactly are we? I don't wanna end up going the wrong way without knowing it."

"…We need to follow that road," the new addition to the group explained as he pointed past the blockade while wrapping the accessory around his neck.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry, Scott; I live around here. Actually, it's more like my dad owns a place here." There was a hint of darkness in Isaac's tone when he corrected himself. Stiles noticed Scott giving him a look of concern. It all only lasted a second, however, as Isaac quickly cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's not the point. I just happen to know this street well, and we need to continue straight past the blockade to reach the clinic."

"Who am I to argue with the guide?" Stiles shrugged as he tried to look further down the street. Power had been knocked out in particular sections, but there was still a good amount of light. He then went back to Roscoe and dug around inside before taking out a tire iron, a metal baseball bat, and a BB pellet pistol. "Let's get going then. I don't wanna be around when Mr. and Mrs. Smith catches up and turn us into Swiss cheese."

Scott merely rolled his eyes at the movie reference before taking the offered bat. Isaac threw a strange look at the gun while taking the tire iron.

"It kinda looks like the real thing," Stiles answered the unspoken question. "I wanted something threatening with me in case someone decided to carjack me." He then began to lead the way through the blockade, leaving a still questioning Isaac and a somewhat amused Scott to follow along.

* * *

Yes, Isaac is now a part of the story! As I'm sure you can tell, I'm planning to have him for more than just a two-bit cameo character as it was with Boyd last chapter. I promise that I will have a side story written out for Boyd when this one is over; I'm not writing it together with this because I know myself in that I will inadvertently lose interest with this particular story. As such, the side stories will have to wait.

Apart from that, there's more action in this chapter. I also finally let slip some more noticeable information as to what the plot is going to be. I honestly don't know how the plot's going to develop from here on out; I'm literally writing whatever comes to mind and trying to make it work towards the ending I already have in mind. That means I'm like all of you readers; I don't know what's going on until I write down the first thing that comes to mind. It's not easy, but it's a lot of fun to do.

Speaking of fun, I also decided to add in some funny bits to the story. After all, I don't see this as a true Teen Wolf story if there aren't any Stiles antics involved. I'll admit that the jokes are probably inappropriate for the situation they're in, but I see it as Stiles' way of trying to stay calm in the midst of potential death. It's his way of coping, and he wants to at least try to keep some sense of normalcy in an already death-ridden chaotic night. At the least, it gave a bit of insight with regards to Scott's past escapades.

Anyway, that's all I really have to say now. Thanks again for taking the time to read this new chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as the other chapters. Please don't forget to leave a review before moving onto the next story you want to read. As I said in the above note, I'm right now waiting to see who will be the first to break the proverbial reviewer ice. Thanks again, and I hope to see you all on the next update to this or any of the other stories I have on here!


	7. Chapter 7

Hello, everybody! Here's a new chapter for you all to read. Again, I don't really have much to say at the moment. I know there's something I keep meaning to say in these author's notes, but I always end up forgetting what it is when it comes to putting it down. Oh well, I'm sure I'll remember about it one of these days. Although I probably should try reading through my previous notes since I'm sure somewhere in there is a trigger for me to remember. But I'm too lazy to check, so whatever.

Anyway, this chapter will admittedly be a combination of filler and exposition. There were a couple things that I wanted explained but couldn't really find a good place to do it. As such, I figured this chapter would be a good time to start the process. Again, I also tried to put in a couple of funny moments to kind of offset the seriousness of the situation. Still, I'm also trying not to make the humor so amazingly funny that it doesn't exactly have a place in the setting this story is in. It's just enough to get some of the edge off yet not so much that it becomes an unrealistic moment.

And that's all I really have to say. There weren't any new followers this time around, so we can skip that. However, we did end up losing a fellow follower to this story for reasons unknown to me. The MIA follower is **Skyentist** ; I'm sorry that you felt like leaving this story. I don't know what it is that dissuaded you from wanting to read more after the posting of the sixth chapter. However, this is why I suggest that folks leave reviews telling me their concerns and criticisms. I can't help you want to be invested in reading this story if I don't know what you all are thinking. I like to know what you guys are thinking, but I can't make a conscious effort to make the experience better for you all if I don't know what's on your minds in terms of criticisms.

That's all I really have to say; for real this time. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

As the group travelled through the street beyond the police blockade, Stiles noticed a lack of civilian vehicles. There were quite a few police cars, but a majority of them were either shot up or were clawed up beyond repair. He made it a point, though, to search them all for any signs of a gun. Unfortunately, others who had passed through before them had the same idea and left only police batons and riot gear.

Of the squad cars that were not beat up beyond functionality, there were keys still in the ignitions. The men were excited on the first one they came across and readied themselves for a quick drive. However, Isaac had the foresight to look further on down the road and noticed that there was way too much debris to drive through. Lamp posts were half-slumped over the road, some of which had electrical wires dangling precariously. That and the cars themselves were strategically parked so as to offer the officers at the time a defensible space. It obviously did not work and only served to block the road for any retreating vehicles. As such, they reluctantly accepted their fate of being exposed to danger throughout the rest of their trek to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.

"So what's your story, Isaac?" Stiles asked after a few minutes of silence passed. He was carefully peering around a delivery truck for any signs of killer monsters. He hated the quiet that had fallen over them and wanted something to help pass the time. It was also a chance for him to learn more about their new companion. "What were you doing before the whole town-overrun-by-killer-monsters scenario started?"

"Well, I was starting my junior year at Beacon Hills University," Isaac explained. Even though he was not looking at the man, Stiles could hear the hesitation in his answer. Turning to look at Isaac, he noticed he kept the tire iron close to his body as though he were afraid he would drop it. "The classes were getting tougher, but it was still kinda fun. It's not like I'll be missing it, though; I didn't even know what I wanted to major in! Other than that, I… Well, I didn't do much of anything outside of college."

"Really?" Stiles pressed while shooting the man a skeptical look. Whatever concerns he had over the situation had taken a back seat as he now concentrated on what he considered odd behavior. "How can you not have a social life? That's like a dog acting like it doesn't want to eat any food! Don't you go to work or hang out with your friends? Maybe at least participate in a couple of study sessions? All of it comes with the college life package!"

"I don't really have a job, and I'm more of a loner. Participating in group work tends to paint me as the one who's quiet and thus socially awkward. I can stand on my own pretty well, but… Well, I-I guess I just kinda prefer to keep to myself," he shyly explained while fidgeting with the hem of his scarf. He then added in a tone almost too soft to catch, "It's not like people really care about what I say or do, anyway."

"To each their own, right?" Scott chimed in as he walked up next to Isaac. "College isn't exactly easy to last for at least four years. Believe me; I know. You seem to be getting through it, though, if you've lasted this long. That's more that some can ask for! And besides, Stiles and I are kinda loners, too. As much as I like to make new friends, it's sometimes overrated," he said with a chuckle and a playful elbow jab to Isaac's ribs. The man responded with irritation at first before giving a small smile.

Stiles could see that Scott was just trying to get their new companion to loosen up. Still, he noticed the man acted reserved when he answered. He had always been an observant person, a trait he hid behind his ADHD persona. It proved to be a great cover, acting like a hyper mess yet paying more attention than others when observing his surroundings and people. Nobody had been the wiser, Scott and his dad excluded.

Scott, however, was not as aware of others. He usually reacted in his lovable yet naïve way in that he always tried to see the good in everybody. It often left him open to people trying to take advantage of him. The attempted kidnapping a few years ago was, although an extreme one, a good example. Stiles had been taken only because he was always stuck to his best friend like glue and thus a witness.

Since then, Stiles had chosen to become the cautious yet helpful best friend to Scott's still bright optimism. Actually, his cautiousness became stronger after the incident that someone who did not know him could have considered him neurotic. The change in attitude did help get them out of a few questionable situations, though. Most of them were rooted from his innate curiosity and Scott's willingness, begrudging or otherwise, to follow along.

Now was no exception to his cautious attitude. Isaac's hesitant responses rose some red flags in Stiles' mind. From what he learned in the police academy, it usually was a sign that the person was either a victim of abuse or was fishing around for the least suspicious answer. What he asked Isaac did not exactly scream potential criminal activity, so he then assumed some kind of abuse. And based on his bitter tone from when he mentioned his father's place plus his timid nature, he lived with an abusive asshole for most of his life. It was only speculation on his part, but Stiles prided himself in his ability to read people. Whether he could do something about it, however, was a different story.

"You're brooding again, Stiles," Scott deadpanned as he put a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"Wh-What?" he stammered. Having been torn away from his thoughts, he realized they had already crossed a couple blocks. He had no idea how he managed it while deep in his own head; the fact he did not trip over something or got mauled by a monster was miraculous! "I don't brood, Scott!"

"Then you're doing some intense spaced-out thinking. Either way, trust me when I say you shouldn't be doing that," he warned while keeping a tight grip on his bat. "These things can come at you without warning. You keep your guard down and get jumped, then you better hope to die!"

"Well, that's an extremely grim warning coming from you."

"It's better than the alternative," Isaac replied. Stiles saw him a few feet away, his hands still seemingly hesitant about holding onto the tire iron. However, his stance was definitely that of someone on alert. His head was constantly scanning various spots as though he were in a bout of paranoia. "By comparison, dying is much better than becoming one of them."

"And there's another similarity to the Resident Evil series!" the rookie officer exclaimed in sarcastic amazement as his best friend nodded in agreement. "Let me guess; you turn if they bite you?"

"Only certain ones will. Not all bites can turn you into a killer monster." Both Scott and Stiles stared at Isaac upon hearing that. He obviously sensed their unspoken question since he turned around to look at them. His demeanor no longer fidgety and reserved, though. Instead, there was a shadow reflected through his brown eyes as if he were recalling a bad memory. "I know because I've seen it happen. Some got bit but ended up okay; others ended up turning and started killing people."

"So you're saying those who survived are immune to turning?" Scott asked. He sounded a bit hopeful at the possibility.

"I-I don't know! I just know that some bites turn people and others don't. If it's because they're immune, then good for them. However, I not gonna test that theory nor do I wanna stick around to find out!"

Stiles was a bit taken aback by the finality in Isaac's tone. He almost felt it was uncalled for. Then again, this was his first night participating in the Beacon Hills survival games. Isaac most definitely had more than his fair share of death and running. Compared to his one-night experience to Scott and, theoretically, Isaac's two week stint, they had good reason to talk very little on the subject. Still, he could not shake off the feeling that there was another reason to his bite of finality.

"Stiles," Scott called out in a warning tone.

"I already told you; I'm not brooding!" The other merely sighed while Stiles shot him an annoyed glare.

As much as Stiles hated to admit it, the night's events had his brain doing major overtime with the thinking. He already knew he was lucky enough to not be a stereotypical guy who got so frightened on his first run-in that he was killed off immediately. Actually, he probably would have died had Scott not made such a well-timed entrance.

Still, he had to wonder how long his luck would last. He already made the most basic mistake in the dummy's guide to surviving a catastrophic event, willingly staying behind instead of making an immediate escape. Horror shows usually ended up killing the characters who did that. At least he had a very good reason in that he would not abandon Scott in his time of need. It did not make him feel better about willingly staying in town longer, though.

"Guys?" Isaac hesitantly called. Scott and Stiles, who had been busy poking at a dead monster with his bat, looked over towards the man. He suddenly seemed extremely skittish, almost as though he were a child who saw something he was not supposed to. "I'm getting some bad feelings about this place."

"What?" Scott asked as he and Stiles stopped and looked down the road. All they could see were the various forms of destruction. "What bad feelings? I don't see anything wrong."

"But something should be wrong," the man clarified, earning him a confused look from the two. "Think about it; there's always been a few dead bodies we would pass by. This street, though, doesn't have any. With what's been going on, this is unusual."

"Okay, you must be the most attentively paranoid person during a chaotic scene I've ever heard of. The only thing I really noticed were the monsters, but only because they're always on the hunt for us," Stiles said as he cast a skeptical look towards Isaac. However, it quickly turned stoic when he noticed how deadly serious the man looked. "But let's just say you've noticed a few dead people. Wouldn't a lack of them be a good sign? It'd mean this area's a good place is probably protected!"

"Then why wasn't there anybody guarding the police blockade?" Scott asked. He looked at his best friend as though he said the stupidest thing. Stiles ducked his head slightly because he completely forgot about that little detail. "I haven't ran into a body since meeting up with you, or at least not knowingly. Still, Isaac's right. I may sound crazy, but not seeing a dead person in an unguarded street doesn't make sense. If this place was safe, then I think we'd have already run into someone."

"Then maybe the monsters chose to ignore this area!"

"So they just tore up the cars we passed by and bloodied them for fun?"

"It's probably back from when all this crap was starting! They've had time to get more organized since then."

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself?" Isaac groaned, prompting Stiles to glare at him. "Look, just trust me when I say I'm getting a bad feeling here. You can call me paranoid, but I think we need to find another way to the animal clinic now!"

"So is it your survival instincts kicking in or your well-honed animalistic sixth sense?" Stiles could not help the sarcastic comment and was rewarded with a disgruntled sigh from his best friend. "But fine, we'll find another way there. Where do you suggest we go?"

"How about down that alleyway?" Scott suggested as he headed towards said direction. "It'll take us to another street, and it shouldn't throw us off our direction too much."

"Scott, don't move!"

Almost immediately after that warning, a blur passed right in front of Scott. The sudden gush of wind startled him enough to make him stumble backwards and fall to the ground. The sound of something landing heavily on top of a nearby abandoned car brought their attention to it.

"Really? There _were_ monsters here?" Stiles complained as he readied his BB pistol.

Staring back at them in irritation was a monster. Its piercing red eyes were unreadable, though Stiles thought it to be a predatorily quizzical gaze. He had no idea how the thought made sense, but that was what he was reading from the situation. All three of them had been staring at it for a full three seconds; he knew the thing was fast enough to strike at least one of them in that time.

"Wh-what's it doing?" Scott stuttered out as he carefully got to his feet. The monster simply watched his every move. "I thought i-it'd come right for us like the others."

"So what do you call what it just did earlier, it's attempt at a high-speed bone-crushing hug?" Stiles hissed. He dared to speak any louder in fear of potential retaliation. "Maybe we can get out of here if we just move slowly."

"It's not gonna let us go," Isaac whispered. As though it understood, the creature shot a harsh look at the man before hopping off the car and landing in front of the alleyway entrance. "See? This one's a bit smarter than the others. It's like its toying with us!"

The creature then let out a loud cry. Stiles had expected it sound monstrous, but he was surprised when all he heard was something akin to a wolf's howl. The tone was steady, and it carried easily throughout the desolate streets.

"What's it doing?" Scott wondered aloud, now raising his bat in preparation for what was coming. "I've never seen them do this before."

"…It's calling the others," Isaac realized, his tone thick with dread.

Before either of them could ask, they saw more monsters appearing along the rooftops and windows of the surrounding buildings. The numbers were slowly growing; some had even already taken positions meant to cut off their potential exists.

"I knew there was a reason for my bad feelings." Isaac's shoulders slumped as Stiles and Scott readied their weapons. "Now I know why. We just happened to walk right into a damned pack den!"

* * *

Yeah, it's another somewhat short chapter. It also ends in a cliffhanger of sorts. To be honest, I didn't want this chapter to end the way it did. However, what I have planned in terms of the plot unfortunately required for this to end the way it did. I'm sure I could've written the ending a bit better, but I didn't want to run the risk of putting so much that the urgency of the moment becomes diluted.

And yes, the creature with the red eyes knows how to howl. I'm sure all of you know by know from the descriptions of them in the past seven chapters that these things are my version of killer werewolves. For those of you wondering why I still haven't called them as such in the story, it's because the characters don't know what to call them! All they refer to them as are monsters or creatures. That's all they technically need to know; although I do promise that the term "werewolf" will make an appearance at some point in the story.

So yes, I do hope that you guys will decide to leave a review of constructive criticism. I would like to avoid another MIA follower scenario like that with **Skyentist**. I do read all your reviews and criticisms and try to respond to them as best I can either through the next chapter's author's note or through private messaging should the review be that compelling. I also try to take your thoughts into consideration and try to better my story for your reading pleasure, provided that it doesn't force my story to delve too far from what I already have in mind. Just something I hope you'll all consider doing with this chapter.

And that's it. Time for me to go to sleep now; it's almost four in the morning for me here! I need to wake up in five hours for work! Joy... Anyway, until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!


	8. Chapter 8

Hell, everybody! Here's a new chapter to this story. And as usual, I'm posting it when it's almost three in the morning where I'm at. Some things just don't end up changing, do they? Oh well, at least I am having fun doing this, so I guess it's all okay in the end. Still, I do admit I need to get some more sleep soon, especially since I'm planning to become a teacher. That's definitely not an occupation where I should be staying up late and thus become a tired zombie the entire school day.

Anyway, I don't really have much to say here. Actually, there is something I do want to say, but I keep forgetting what it is. All I can remember right now is that it has something to do with Stiles' character in this story. Other than that, I can't remember it off the top of my head. The worst part about it, though, is that it was in my mind just last night! I hope I can remember it, but it's not looking too promising.

Oh well, I still hope that you'll all enjoy this new chapter. There's no new people to welcome to this story; and nobody's decided to go MIA, so I guess that's a plus. Still, I'd like to hear from you readers what you think about the story so far. Not only is it a motivator for me to continue writing; it's also my way of seeing how you're all liking, or disliking, the story. I hope you'll be able to take a couple minutes to voice your opinion before moving onto the next story you want to read. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here, everybody!

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

"What're you talking about, Isaac?" Stiles demanded as he looked at all the monsters that had suddenly appeared after the howl. A few had jumped down from their perch on the rooftops, all of them landing with barely a show of pain. It had him wondering for a split second just what these things were supposed to be. "What the hell's a pack den?"

"Something we're not gonna live through if we don't get outta here now!" Isaac hissed as he inched away at a random direction. Stiles had no idea where he planned on going; many of the monsters were practically surrounding them in a broken circle. Still, his slow movements did not appear to put much attention on himself. "Come on, you guys; let's go!"

"To where? _!_ " the rookie officer exclaimed, his breaths becoming strained and rapid. He failed to notice many of the monsters perking their heads up at his shout. "We're right now in the middle of their circle of death!"

"Cool it, Stiles!" Scott warned as he carefully placed a hand on the other's shoulder. "I think loud noises make them jumpy. Let's just do what Isaac says and get as far away as we can from this soon-to-be mosh pit!"

"Like I asked earlier, where to?"

"How about through there?" they heard Isaac suggest. "I think it's safe!"

Looking to the direction he was still inching towards, the two saw the entrance to an apartment complex. The building looked relatively undamaged, but the front doors and a few windows were badly damaged. Still, it allowed for them to see that, at the least, the lobby was free of any monsters. Whether or not the other floors were the same was a different story.

"Oh yeah, that's a smart idea! Let's head inside where we'll be forced to deal with a lot of confined space!" Stiles sarcastically huffed as he tighten the grip on his BB pistol. "If we go in there, we'll be easier targets for them!"

"But wouldn't it also be easier for us?" Scott asked, his feet already slowly following Isaac's lead. Now that there were two slow-moving targets, many of the monsters now had their eyes trained on them. "Worst-case scenario, they'll be coming at us two at a time, one from each side. We can probably handle two of them. It's better than picking a fight with an entire group all at once out here!"

Stiles did not want to agree to the plan; he had seen enough horror movies to know how being in confined areas would turn out. Unfortunately, the rational part of his brain won. As much as he wanted to stay outside where there were more places to run; now was definitely not the time. While still just as bad of an idea, going indoors was probably the better of the two bad choices.

The red-eyed monster that nearly killed Scott a few minutes ago suddenly lunged again. It now aimed at the rookie officer; he barely managed to jump out of the way in time! One of its claws managed to nick his jeans, but he was otherwise unharmed. The monster, however, was less than pleased at missing and immediately went for another attack. This time, Stiles had no way to run as he was still recovering.

Fortunately, Scott was still close by and immediately went to his aid. With his bat at the ready, he gave the airborne monster a powerful one-handed swing. He made contact with some part of its body, causing a sharp cracking of bone to reach their ears. It flew backwards a couple feet before landing in a heap, its movements slow as it whined in pain.

Unfortunately, this appeared to be a catalyst the other monsters were waiting for. With them now showing they could fight back, the others began their approach for the kill. Stiles had, with Scott's help, barely got back on his feet before they were attacked again. Just like before, Scott whacked it away before making a full sprint towards the apartment.

Somehow during the chaos of the past few seconds, Stiles managed to keep ahold of his BB pistol. Instinctually, he shot at a monster that jumped into their path. The pellet bounced off of its arm, but it was strong enough to force it to hesitate momentarily. It was all the time Scott needed to close the distance and smash it on the head. There was another sickening crack as it recoiled into a trash bin. It still stood tall, however, and stared back at them defiantly, ignoring the trail of blood trickling from its forehead.

"Come on; hurry up!" they heard Isaac yell.

He was already inside the apartment lobby and motioning for the two to hurry up. At the same time, he knocked a monster out of the doorway with his tire iron. However, all it did was block the entrance as it recovered from the strike to its head. He tried again to hit it out of the way, but it steadied itself this time.

"Get down, Isaac!" Stiles commanded as he raised his gun while continuing towards the blocked entrance. Thankfully, the man inside reacted immediately and gave the rookie officer a safe target and shot twice.

Despite having a jumbled aim due to his running, one of the pellets struck the monster in the head. By the time it was fired, he and Scott were a just a few yards away. As such, the pellet held more power and was able to do more than just cause a bruise. It managed to get lodged in the side of the monster's skull. It howled in pain as it frantically clawed at its head in an attempt to get the offending object out. In so doing, it stumbled around in a frenzy, flecks of blood flying around from both the fresh and self-inflicted wounds. The two took this opportunity to run past it and into the lobby.

There were more monsters trying to follow them as they entered the building. However, the one Stiles shot earlier was still wildly flailing about. Like a panicked wounded animal would do, it attacked everything within sight. That included any nearby inanimate objects and its own fellow monsters. They were now stuck with some in-fighting and temporarily forgot about the trio.

With barely a glance to each other, the three ran further into the apartment complex. The last place they wanted to be was in plain sight of the monsters once they sorted out their current problem. They ignored a set of stairs that lead to the upper floors and instead headed down a narrow hallway. It was barely large enough for two people to run side by side due to it being cluttered with various objects. As such, they ran in a staggered line.

However, that did not mean all of them were able to completely see what was in front of them. Since Isaac was in the lead, he saw certain things first and effortlessly hopped over them. Scott, who had been close behind him, barely had enough time to react in kind; he nearly tripped a couple times when his foot clipped over some objects. Stiles, however, was not as lucky and fell over the first object.

He barely managed to call out to Scott before falling to the floor with a heavy grunt. He felt himself land on something solid; he assumed it was a blunt object since all he felt was a pain that covered the left side of his stomach. He struggled to quickly get to his feet but was knocked back down when a rumble disturbed his already shaky footing.

"Come on, Stiles!" Scott called as he stood before the rookie officer with an outstretched arm.

Just as Stiles got back up, he saw a monster appear in the hallway from where they came from. He immediately recognized it thanks to the large straight bruise on its side from where Scott struck it. Its red eyes stared angrily at them, the color more menacing in the hallway's bad lighting.

Stiles cursed under his breath as he placed a hand on his sore stomach. He began hastily backing up, constantly tripping over other items scattered across the floor. Scott kept him on his feet, but even he was having trouble keeping himself from falling.

"Maybe it won't chase us if we just shuffle away!" the rookie officer suggested, all the while keeping his gaze trained on the monster. It simply stared back at him with a snarl. "It's angry, but at least it's just standing there."

"What are you guys doing?" Isaac suddenly shouted. "They're right behind us!"

Reacting to the outburst, the monster rushed towards them with its claws at the ready. It was slowed a bit when it knocked over things that were propped against the walls, but it failed to be deterred from its mission.

"God damn it, Isaac!" Stiles exclaimed as he turned around and followed Scott down the hallway. He barely noticed Isaac poking his head around the corner ahead of them. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Hey, I didn't know they caught up to you!" the young man defended as the two rounded the corner. "I just turned around and saw neither of you following. I hadn't got to the corner yet when I shouted. How was I supposed to know what was going on?"

"And you thought yelling at the top of your lungs was smart? News flash, man; you just told every nearby monster where we're at!"

"Just shut up and run, you two!" Isaac barked before bursting through a shut door. They all went through and saw themselves in another hallway that split into two paths. "Great, which way do we go?"

A loud crash behind them took their attention before they could choose. Turning around, they saw the red-eyed monster coming around the corner and barreling down the hallway at top speed. Its teeth were bared, gangly and dirtied from what could only be assumed by the many lives it stole in its short life.

Out of reflex, Stiles raised his BB Pistol and prepared to shoot at it. Just as he was about to, however, he felt someone shoving him aside. He fell to the floor with a yelp of surprise and his gun accidentally discharged in the process. He heard Scott shouting in a mixture of pain and exertion a moment later. It was immediately drowned out by the sound of the monster crashing into the wall.

Turning onto his butt and inching backwards, the rookie officer saw the monster on the ground. One of its claws was stuck in the wall while the other flailed about wildly. Its head was resting against the floor and dirtied with dust. Its eyes were staring in his direction, but he could tell it was in too much of a daze to really focus. He took this opportunity to look beyond it and saw Isaac dragging Scott down the other portion of the hallway. He wanted to join back up with them, but the monster's wild arm made the idea impossible.

"Just get out of here, Stiles!" he heard Scott shout as he saw the two about to go around a corner. "We'll meet back up at Deaton's place!"

Despite still trying to let the reality of them being separated sink in; Stiles wanted to call his best friend out on the hiss of pain in his tone. He thought against it, however, when he saw the monster starting to regain its composure. With Scott and Isaac already out of sight, he knew he would be the only target left to chase. He scrambled back onto his feet and ran down his side of the hallway.

 _God, of all the times to get separated!_ he thought just as the red-eyed monster let loose a sharp howl. _At least it wasn't because of some big explosion or one of us falling over a railing, but still! Oh, can this get any worse?_

Once he turned a corner, whatever hope he had at escaping quickly drained away. What stood before him was not an exit but instead a dead end.

"What the hell? _!_ " he loudly whined before desperately trying to open the only two doors in the hallway. Both of them were locked and showed no signs of opening. He then looked over to a lone window at the hallway's end in hopes that he could break through it. That idea got shot down when he saw security bars lining the outside. "This is a cheap-ass way to die!"

In a vain hope that he could somehow pass by the monster, Stiles turned around and tried to go back. Unfortunately, that was when the monster rounded the corner. It still had a dazed look, but it had recovered enough to fully note Stiles' existence. It was letting out a constant stream of heavy breaths, no doubt a result from the exhaustion caused by the failed attacks and injuries it sustained.

Regardless, there was an air of fierce determination about it. It was almost as though it now had a personal vendetta against him being one of the three people that had been making a fool out of it for the past few minutes. All earlier stares had a sort of predatory feel to them; this one instead felt more like a promise of revenge. And now, much to Stiles' horror, it looked like it would be able to make good on its silent threat.

* * *

I finally remembered what I wanted to say about Stiles' character! Why did I not delete the earlier author's note on here saying I forgot? Because I'm too lazy and tired to care.

Anyway, I wanted to make mention about why Stiles and Scott haven't exactly killed anything. I'm pretty sure some of you are concerned about that fact and are probably just waiting for the gory monster-murder scenes. For one, Scott has used nothing but blunt weapons this entire time. Even though blunt weapons can still kill things; he hasn't really landed a death blow. The scene where I first depicted him in a fight was pretty close, but I didn't want it to die.

Then there's Stiles' moments from this chapter where he had chances to, even with a weak BB Pistol, kill one of the monsters. A shot to the head from a near point-blank BB Pistol shot would be potentially deadly to a person; the monster who now has a shot lodged into its skull now has a painful reminder of its near-death experience.

What I'm trying to get at through these scenes is that these creatures are remarkably and abnormally hardy. Attacks that would normally incapacitate or kill a person are just barely granting them enough time to run away. So it's not that I think Scott and Stiles are innocent souls who would refuse to kill something that's clearly out to get them; it's more of an example of how these creatures are so hardy that nothing short of an intense blow to the head or being completely crushed by something would kill them. Granted that I have showcased a couple creatures being killed when I had the chapter with Jordan in it; but that was all him and his expert shooting when he wasn't busy with hand-to-hand combat.

At the same time, this is showcasing just how amateurish the group is with fighting. Stiles at least has some experience from his academy training, but it's hard to put it to use when he only has a BB Pistol as a firearm. Not exactly a great way to showcase his lethal abilities as a cop. Still, it does give him a chance to show off his skills with a gun.

Anyway, that's all I really have to say. I mean, I'm already happy that I managed to remember what I've been meaning to say for the past three chapters. Still, I suppose it's best that I remembered it now since I now have a few examples from past chapters that I was able to use to get my point across. I hope it will clear up some questions that some of you had regarding that matter, provided that any of you were even questioning that particular topic. That and I hope you also liked the primarily action-packed chapter. I thought I'd try leaving out as much dialogue as possible and have it be replaced with just descriptive action. I hope it ended up coming out good; it was an interesting change as I usually like working with dialogue more than descriptive action scenes.

Please don't forget to leave a review before moving onto the next story you want to read. As I said in the beginning author's note, it's a good way for me to see what you like and don't like about this story. And it's also a good way for me to see what you readers catch as potential mistakes that I might end up missing. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here everybody!


	9. Chapter 9

Hello everybody! Here's a new chapter to this story. This is going to be a really short author's note because I honestly don't have anything to say. That and it's now almost five in the morning for me. It's honestly time to go to sleep.

But before I go to sleep, let me officially welcome you to this new chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it; it's part two of the action scene that started from the last chapter. Please don't forget to leave a review telling me what you thought about the story as a whole and how you think the action scenes sounded. Any kind of constructive criticism is both welcomed and appreciated. Until then next update to this or any of my other stories on here!

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

"Damn it! How the hell's this fair? _!_ "

Stiles gritted his teeth as he pressed his back against the dead-end wall. He stared down the snarling monster that stood between him and his only chance at escape. It kept on repeatedly flexing its fingers, almost as though trying to show off its lethality. Armed with only a BB Pistol that little to help, he figured his chances at being shredded to fleshy bloody bits was high. If not that, then he would become its next meal. Neither forms of death appealed to him. At least he could hope it would choke on his bones if it ate him.

He barely blinked before the monster began charging towards him. With little recourse, he raised his gun and shot at it. As expected, it merely bounced off its head with barely a snarl of pain. It did, however, force it to stumble a bit just as it leapt at him, its right claw ready to rip through his flesh.

Noticing how its body was now slightly diagonal, Stiles took the advantage and pressed himself against the right side of the hallway. It tried to compensate by flicking its left claw at his exposed body, its red eyes following the man's every move. He felt the attack brushing over his head as he slid to the right until his arm made contact with the ground. Now without a target, it crashed through the window; the security bars behind it stayed intact, however. It now laid in a heap with shards of glass sticking out of its shoulders.

Amazed at how he managed to survive that, Stiles got to his feet and took the advantage. He ran back the way he came, hoping Scott and Isaac did not go too far. He hated the thought of them being separated and wanted to join back up immediately. The idea was quickly shot down, though, when he turned the corner and saw a couple of monsters. They were gathered at the spot where the group was first separated.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed as the monsters noticed his appearance. Their yellow eyes appeared confused for a moment, but they quickly recognized him as new prey. They abandoned what they had been doing and began their slow predatory walk towards him. "Why're they here now?"

His breaths were slowly increasing as panic set in. He quickly backed up so that he could have sights on both the new monsters and the one he barely got away from. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw said monster panting heavily as it struggled to get up. At least it was tired from a combination of its injuries, its two failed attacks, and the resulting spectacular crashes. Still, it left him with the others that were now slowly approaching him. He was already lucky enough to make it to this part of the hallway; he knew it would be next to impossible to run past two at the same time!

Something heavy clattering caught his attention. Looking to where the red-eyed monster was, Stiles saw a doorknob rolling along the ground. Tracking it to the door nearest it, he saw it opening ever so slightly.

 _That thing must've broke it when it lunged at me! Thank god for randomly stupid dumb luck!_ he happily thought as he ran for his new exit strategy. The two monsters saw his sudden movements and began the chase. The red-eyed monster seemed to care less and simply gave him a death stare.

By the time he got to the broken door, the monsters had turned the corner. He barged in and quickly turned around to slam it shut. It merely bounced open since he forgot the lock was broken. He cursed his impromptu bout of good luck turned bad as he made his way to another nearby door. He tripped over something along the way that had camouflaged thanks to the bad combination of dim lighting and dark carpeting. Amazingly, he managed to grab onto a nearby armchair and used it to steady his stride.

Just as he made it to his destination, the monsters barreled into the room. He could hear the front door being ripped off its hinges, the wood frame splintering the same time a growl was heard. There was also the sound of glass shattering, but he kept his mind focused and continued on through the doorway.

"Damn, you're all persistent!" Stiles growled just as he shut what he figured out to be the bedroom door. This time, it stayed closed and allowed him a moment's reprieve. "Am I really worth the chase?"

Knowing the door will not hold for long, he started to search for something he could use as a barricade. Thankfully, there was a dresser to the right of the entrance. He immediately got up to it and pushed it towards the door. Despite its weight, he had an easy time with it thanks to the adrenaline rushing through him.

No sooner had he blocked the door, it gave a shudder from the heavy strike it received. If the heavy dresser was not there, it definitely would not be still in the doorway. He knew, though, that it would only a matter of time before they broke through. He saw the hinges already ripped away from the frame, the furniture was the only thing keeping it upright. Even it started to shift slightly with every strike the monsters made.

Stiles quickly scanned the bedroom, hoping he could find something useful lying around. It looked just like any typical bedroom would, a bed pushed against a wall with a nightstand next to it. On the opposite wall sat a desk with an open laptop on it with various papers scattered all around. Leaning against the left side of it was an empty tattered golf bag. There was a golf club covered in an unidentifiable substance lying on the floor next to it. It was too bent out of shape to be of any use, however.

What managed to catch his attention, though, was a window beside the bag. It was open and had a light breeze flowing in. Unlike the one in the dead-end hallway, however, this one had no security bars on it. There were signs of it having existed at one point, but it clearly had been dismantled long ago. Beyond it was an alleyway that he assumed would lead back out onto the open streets.

"Yes, sweet freedom from this den of death!" Stiles happily exclaimed, wasting no time in his rush to his salvation.

Just as he managed to get a leg over the window, the blockaded door gave one last groan before snapping in half. Despite having no chance to duck away from the piece that flew at him; he escaped harm thanks to it hitting the laptop and thus ricocheting away.

Thanking whatever gods were out there for granting him his string of well-timed good luck, he chanced a look towards the exposed doorway. The dresser had survived the assault and was still in place. Despite that, the monsters were determined to get inside and began to climb over it.

For all their show of ferocity, however, they apparently had a hard time performing such a simple task. The first one managed to tumble its way through with uncharacteristic klutziness. The second also entered in the same fashion, although it managed to trip up the first that was just about to pick itself up. As inappropriate as the moment was, Stiles failed to hold back an amused snort at the sight. He quickly composed himself upon hearing their threatening growls and made it out into the alleyway.

While he wanted to enjoy the cool air against his sweat-flushed skin, he knew he needed to keep moving. The monsters were going to collect themselves very soon, and he would rather be out of their sights before they jumped out the window. After all, he did not suffer through all that just to die by him indulging in fresh air.

The only problem with the plan was that he did not know where to go. The alleyway had two exits, but he had no idea which way would lead him to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. He also had no idea about the route he needed to take thanks to his disorienting run through the apartment complex.

"Oh, screw it; I don't have time for this!" he whined before deciding to take the closest exit. "I'll think of a plan as I go along!"

By the time he turned the corner, he still had yet to hear the window break. Considering he was in sight of the monsters when he made his escape, he figured they would be right on his tail. Then again, they were busy making the climb over some furniture into a chore. Perhaps they somehow managed to forget about him because of that. If so, then it gave him reason to feel safe.

Of course, his actively paranoid mind made sure to dismiss any sense of security. From all the horror movies he watched, he learned that having the feeling of security is the moment when all hell breaks loose. He had no intention of being in the middle of that storm when it came around, so he just continued to run down the thankfully vacant streets. Actually, it would have been vacant had he not turned the block and immediately ran into a firm body.

"What the? _!_ " he grunted as he landed backwards on his butt. He brought a hand to his sore nose after running face-first into whoever was there. "Why'd you have to be standing right there?" he asked while looking up to see the human roadblock who barely faltered at the sudden hit.

Staring back down at him was a man dressed in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. He had a beard that was well-trimmed, making Stiles wonder when during all this chaos he managed to find the time for facial grooming. His brown eyes stared straight into Stiles', one of his bushy eyebrows raised in both question and concern.

"Sorry," the man apologized as he offered an arm that Stiles gladly took. "I didn't think anybody would be cutting the corner the same time as me."

"Well, I guess you're better than those monsters chasing me," Stiles scoffed while getting to his feet. He then quickly turned around to see if said monsters were following him. Strangely enough, they still were nowhere in sight. Either that or they took the wrong alley exit and lost sight of him. "I mean, they were until a couple minutes ago. I'm telling you, never go into a building when surrounded by a pack of those things. You're asking for a death wish!"

"You survived going through a pack den?" the man asked, this time both his eyebrows raised in surprise. "How'd you manage that?"

"By sheer dumb luck, that's how! Anyway, I don't wanna talk about that nightmare nor do I want to ask about what a pack den is! All I want is that I need to keep moving!"

"If you're trying to get out, I can help. I've a couple friends I'm trying to meet back up with. I don't think they'd mind adding one more to our escape team."

"As tempting as the offer is, I'm not leaving," Stiles immediately declined, the grip on his BB Pistol tightening slightly. "I need to meet up with someone; I'm not leaving them behind! You have any idea how I can get to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic from here?"

"The animal clinic?" the man repeated while scratching his neck. While unspoken, the rookie cop could hear the question of why in his tone. Instead, he heard him stoically say as he started to walk, "Yeah, I know the way. In fact, it cuts through where I'm going."

"Good, that makes my life so much easier! You don't mind then if I tagged along with you for a while, do you?" Stiles asked while following him. "God only knows how long I can survive on my own. I don't know how you managed two weeks of this hell!"

"Isn't that how long you've been here?"

"I just got here earlier tonight, buddy! I had no idea what was going on until I almost became dinner at a diner! Talk about an ironic near-death experience! And before you ask, I met up with a friend who told me how long this has been going on," he quickly added when he saw the man cast him an inquisitive look. "Speaking of, did you run into him? We kinda got separated while trying to escape certain doom."

"You're the first person I've seen in a while," the man replied before stopping next to a jeep. "I don't want to be the pessimist, but I don't think he made it out of that den. Those things are notorious for chasing people until they're dead."

"If it were anybody else, I'd say you're right. This is my best friend you're talking about, though. I know how he works; he's not the kind of guy to go down without a fight! I'm sure I'll see him again at the animal clinic.

"So this's your car?" Stiles asked when he saw the man take out a set of keys from his jacket. "I didn't think anybody would still have a working one."

"I'm…borrowing it," the man said as he unlocked the driver's side door and got in. If he was surprised at how smoothly Stiles changed subjects, he kept it hidden. Instead, he unlocked the passenger door and motioned for the rookie cop to get inside. "I did have a Camaro, but it's in the garage back home."

"You have a Camaro? What kind of job do you have raking in the cash for you?"

"It's more of a family inheritance," the man stiffly replied. Despite still in shock at the man's apparent affluence, Stiles caught the tone and dialed back his excitement. "Besides, I'm not in the position to be picky about what to drive. It's better than trying to get around town on foot. Although I don't like the idea of having taken it from a man who died in here."

"Okay, I did not need to know that last part. Too much information!

"Anyway, I don't think I got your name. I'm Stiles."

"Derek."

"Huh, I didn't peg you to be a Derek."

"And I was expecting a more normal-sounding name," the man, Derek, countered.

"Trust me, Mr. Sassy; my real name definitely falls under the category of abnormal. I'm not telling you what it is; just be happy my nickname's at least pronounceable."

Derek said nothing and simply started the car. He then quickly shifted gears and drove off. Just as they were taking off, Stiles saw a monster barreling through the doors of a nearby shop. The sound of the engine had caught its attention, but all it could do was chase them down unsuccessfully as they drove just fast enough to outpace it.

 _At least I seem to be in good hands with this Derek guy,_ Stiles thought as he turned his gaze to the road before them. _He hasn't shown any psychotic tendencies yet, or maybe he's just good at hiding it. Oh god, I hope it isn't the latter. The last thing I need now is to be taken to a crazy guy's place and made into his slave! Or maybe he's one of those crazy guys who thinks these monsters are something to be worshipped through live sacrifices!_

"Keep that up and you'll start hyperventilating," Derek suddenly said. "The last thing I need is for you to get into a panic attack."

"S-Sorry!" he quickly apologized before taking a couple deep breaths. He needed to put his imagination on a leash; he could not afford to be taken down thanks to his imagined what-if scenarios. What he needed to do was concentrate on what was happening now and worry about nothing else.

 _God, I hope Scott's doing okay,_ Stiles thought with a heavy sigh.

* * *

Yes, I've now officially introduced Derek into the story. I'm sorry if his character seems off; I still don't really have a firm grasp on his character. While I have been watching episodes from season one of Teen Wolf, I haven't been watching lately thanks to work being so demanding. Still, I'm trying my best to tap into what I've noticed from the various fanfiction I've read on this site. While it is only his first introduction to my story, I hope I did somewhat okay with his characterization.

And yeah, I'll admit that the ending to this chapter might feel a bit off and sudden. To be honest, I couldn't think of a better way to end the chapter while also introducing Derek into the story. I know I wanted him to be known at this moment; I was just having a hard time figuring out the best way to do it. Hopefully, it will end up sounding at least okay in the full reading of this chapter.

And that's all I have to say today. Thanks to you all for taking the time to read this story. If you could, I would appreciate it if you could leave a constructive review saying what you thought about the chapter, the action, and the story as a whole. Any kind of constructive criticism is both welcomed and appreciated. Thanks again, and I hope to see you all on the next update to this story!


	10. Chapter 10

Hello everybody! Here's another new chapter to this story. However, let me be the first to admit that this chapter is probably nothing more than filler. It still has to do with getting the story moving towards the plot, but there's nothing of great importance apart from some optional character info I thought you'd be interested in reading.

However, there is a point-of-view shift. The chapter will be centered around Scott this time around. As you've no doubt noticed, most of the past chapters were based off of Stiles' point-of-view. The reason why I chose to go with Scott's this time around is because Stiles is already in good hands with Derek. On the other hand, we have no idea how Scott was doing; so I used it as an opportunity to have you readers see for yourselves. And besides, this story is based on Scott's and Stiles' experiences with survival; it only makes sense that the story's point-of-view would shift between them whenever appropriate.

Anyway, that's all I really have to say about this chapter. But before I leave you all to read this new chapter, allow me to welcome **Sheep-san** into the community that is this story. Thanks for following my story and putting it under your favorites. It means a lot to me. Now that we've taken care of that, I'll let you all go now!

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

"I hope Stiles' alright," Scott murmured worriedly.

"I'm sure he's fine," Isaac assured. "I've only known him for a bit, but he seems capable of handling himself. Minus his weird spontaneous moments, of course."

As much as Scott wanted to groan, he suppressed it. Somehow during their escape, the two managed to find themselves in a utility closet. That was mostly Isaac's fault as he led them through the first door of his choosing and shut it behind them. Now they were trapped inside and dared to leave while there were strange noises out in the hallway. The closet being cramped and forcing them to be extremely close to each other did not help matters either.

Still, they managed to make things work. They had to be in an awkward hug to fit and keep from knocking anything over and alerting the monsters to their location. They also kept their faces trained on the door since just turning their heads to each other would result in them kissing the other's cheek. It already happened once before when they first went in hiding; they learned from it and refused to look anywhere but the door.

Since then, an unknown amount of time had passed. It had gone quiet a couple minutes ago but only after Scott heard Stiles' shouts followed by the sound of retreating steps. Clearly more restless than scared, Isaac maneuvered his free arm to the door handle. Scott hissed in pain when the other accidentally brushed against the fresh wound on his left arm.

"Sorry," Isaac apologized before opening the door. He carefully poked his head outside and examined the hallway. He then let out a sigh before saying, "Everything seems okay. Stiles probably got most of their attention earlier. I don't think he meant to, but he's given us a chance to escape!"

"Hopefully not at the cost of his life," Scott replied, his tone reflecting both concern and sarcasm. He rolled his shoulders a bit to get some of the stiffness out. "I'm sure his time at the Sacramento police academy didn't train him for this kind of situation. Knowing him, he'll just dip into his so-called skills in surviving. He's paranoid and has watched enough horror movies to be considered a self-proclaimed expert in life-and-death survival; it doesn't mean he knows what he's doing!"

"He's training to be an officer? No offense, but I can't see him being one."

"You and me both," the veterinarian-in-training shrugged while following Isaac out into the hallway. "His dad's the sheriff, though. He's lived with an officer in his home practically all his life. Honestly, I'd have been surprised if he majored in something other than criminology. I can't tell you how many times he dragged me to his dad's study to look through case files."

"Like I said, he's training to be an officer?" Isaac repeated while casting Scott a skeptical look. He cautiously led the way down the hall. "He's already guilty of breaking and entering; you're an accessory to a crime."

"Trust me; we paid for it when his dad caught us one time. Imagine being ten years old and being told you can't visit your best friend for a whole month outside of school." Scott gave a shudder at the memory. "I remember driving my mom crazy every day until she threatened to extend my punishment."

"Sounds like something my brother and I used to do."

"You have a brother?"

"Had," Isaac corrected, his expression turning dark as he picked up the tire iron that had somehow made its way to where it was. "He was killed while in the military. Left me alone with my dad," he bitterly added as he swung his weapon at nothing. Scott noticed the increased aggression and suddenly found the bat still in his hands interesting. "They're both sore subjects; I don't wanna talk about it."

"It's cool, man; I didn't mean to stir up bad memories," Scott apologized as they turned a corner. "Let's just concentrate on making it to the animal clinic in one piece."

"And getting you some medical attention," Isaac added, his tone calmer as he pointed to the other's wound. "That's a pretty bad gash; it's still bleeding!"

"It's probably gonna need stitches," he groaned as he stopped to take a better look at his arm. After making sure the area was clear, Isaac came closer to examine the wound. "At least my mom's a nurse; she can patch me up when I see her."

The sleeve of his leather jacket was torn, showcasing the damaged skin beneath it. It was still bleeding, although it seemed to have started to heal. He received it around the time when he got separated from Stiles. He had no idea what caused it; he assumed it was when he fell to the floor and rubbed against something sharp. If that was the case, then he needed to get it cleaned as soon as possible. At the least, it looked nothing like a bite. Considering how close he was to the monster's mouth, that in itself was a miracle.

"Still, we need to get that wrapped up," Isaac stated as he reached under his shirt and took out a scarf similar to the one around his neck. Unlike his current one, however, this one was almost as red as a monster's eyes. "I like scarves," he simply replied in response to Scott's confused gaze. "This's a spare in case I lost the one I'm wearing. Don't worry, I kept it tied over my undershirt; it's never touched my skin."

"I didn't say anything. But why're you even wearing one now? Fashion's the last thing I'd be worried about. That and it's still summer!"

"It's late summer; the autumn air's starting to roll in. And like I said, I like scarves," he shrugged while carefully wrapping his spare over Scott's wound. "I don't like having my neck exposed."

"I'm guessing you don't like showing much skin?" Scott asked with a wince every time the scarf touched his wound. The other man kept silent as he continued with his impromptu first aid.

"Anyway, it looks like you know what you're doing," he changed subjects after a couple seconds of awkward silence. "I've seen Dr. Deaton patch up animals before, and that's almost exactly how he does it."

"I've learned a few things from Alan. Nothing too advanced, but its stuff I can use on both animals and people. This is one of them," Isaac replied. Scott could hear the hint of pride in his voice as the makeshift bandage was completed with a knot tied carefully over the wound. He then gave it a cautious tug before stepping back to examine his work. "Well, I've done all I can. That should keep it from becoming any worse than it is. Still, we need to get it cleaned and patched with proper bandages as soon as we can. I'm sure there's some stuff we can use at the clinic."

"Guess that's another reason to get there quickly then." Scott gingerly moved his arm to test the wrap. He then moved it faster after seeing it hold and was met with the same result. "Of course, that's assuming we even know where to go from here."

"I can figure it out once we're back outside. Right now, let's just concentrate on finding an exit."

With that, Isaac led the way through the cramped hallways once more. Amazingly, there were no signs of any monsters the entire time they were performing first aid. Considering that they were hiding in the utility closet for a while, it seemed fair to assume the monsters forgot about them and moved on. Whatever the reason was, neither chose to waste even a moment of their reprieve.

Not even a minute later, they turned one last corner and saw an emergency exit at the end of their path. The sign above the door had long since been shattered, but the red letters painted onto the door designated it as an emergency escape.

"Really?" Isaac groaned. "We just needed to keep on running and we would've been out of here? I basically led us into that closet for nothing!"

"But we still would've had a whole bunch of monsters after us," Scott mentioned with a shrug. "At least they're now busy doing whatever it is they're doing.

"Anyway, that reminds me of something," he wondered. "You said earlier that this place was a pack den. Why'd you call it that?"

"It's something my friends came up with," the other man explained. He had reached the doors and cautiously opened them. After making sure the coast was clear, he motioned for Scott to follow him out into the alley. They were greeted with a security light that illuminated the area and gave them sight of any potential dangers. "It's when there's a whole bunch of those things gathered in one place. They kinda thought of it in wolf terminology; it's a den controlled by a leader.

"You remember how they all came at us when you defended Stiles against the one with red eyes?" Scott gave a single nod. "After you hit it, the others considered it as all bets off the table. From what my friends and I have seen, the one with red eyes are usually the leaders of a group. They're the ones who get first dibs in a fight, but the others will join in when they see their leader attacked."

"So you're saying it's my fault we got into that mess?"

"No, Scott; that's not what I'm saying." They had now made it back to the streets. Isaac took the chance to scan his surroundings for a moment before deciding on the direction to go. "I would've done the same thing in your shoes. What I meant was that them surrounding us was like wolves catching intruders in their territory. They owned the entire street! We were lucky enough to get out of it alive!"

"And that's why you called it a pack den," Scott concluded while putting the bat on his shoulder. "I guess I understand it now. Wolves are _very_ protective of their pack mates, and the monsters' behavior does kind of seem like that. Not to mention that the one with red eyes acted like the leader.

"Oh, I hope Stiles is okay," he suddenly groaned. "I just remembered that it was the red-eyed one that separated us. It chose to chase him over us!"

"I think he's doing alright," Isaac replied. Whether it was the truth or out of comfort, Scott chose not to wonder on it. "The whole time we were stuck in that closet, we didn't hear any bloodcurdling screams from him. That and there were a lot of crashing sounds going on. You don't normally hear that when someone's still alive.

"I don't know Stiles as well as you do, but he looks to me like a guy who can take care of himself," he added with a smile, now walking alongside Scott instead of leading the way. "He doesn't freeze up and advertise himself as a free monster meal. He managed to shoot at a few of them despite being in a panic. He was able to outrun them despite it being what I think to be his first time against these things." Scott's soft chuckle was answer enough to Isaac's suspicions. "And he's cautious enough to question plans before agreeing to go along with it. He has the mind of a survivor; that's more than anybody in this situation could ask for."

"…You're a different person when you talk about this, you know?" Scott noticed after a moment of comfortable silence. The other man shot him a quizzical glance. "I mean, you tend to be fidgety and short with your answers. Now you sound confident."

"Th-That's because I don't like sharing information about myself!" Isaac quickly explained. The light blush on his cheeks, however, did not escape Scott's notice. "I'm good with anything else, though. Talking about my experiences in this town-turned-to-hell is one of them. There's no right or wrong answer; I just like to help others by telling them how I've survived this long."

The sound of a car roaring to life immediately caught their attention. Both men stopped walking and tried to figure out where it came from. However, they could not find it and ended up looking at each other with a shrug.

"I guess someone's found their ticket out of here," Scott wondered aloud as he rolled the bat in his hands. He kept on listening to the sound of the car engine moving further away from them. "It's too bad they're not heading our way. I was kinda hoping we could hitch a ride."

"You really think whoever's driving would take the time to take us somewhere other than out of this town?" he heard Isaac ask, his deadpan tone accentuated by his stoic gaze.

That was the only thing Scott saw and heard, though, before he felt the world start to spin. He put his free hand to his forehead in an attempt to stop it, but he could already feel his body starting to sway.

"Hey, you okay?" Isaac asked as he placed firm but gentle hands on Scott's shoulders. It took a few more seconds before his eyes could finally focus on something other than blurred images.

"I-I don't know," Scott answered, his voice a bit shaky. "I think it's… It's probably the stress catching up with me. I haven't slept well since this all started; I'm amazed I haven't died from an asthma or panic attack yet!"

"Or it's a sign you lost a lot of blood," the other man suggested as he took a look at the injured arm. Scott also looked at it and saw a bit of red seeping through the fabric. "Doesn't look like it's gotten any worse. You don't seem to be getting sick, either," he added as he put a hand to Scott's forehead. "Still, I'd really feel better if we can get to the clinic sooner than later. Think you can keep moving?"

"Yeah, I'm alright now," Scott replied while swatting away the other's hand. "I probably shouldn't be making any sudden movements, but I'll manage. Thanks, Isaac." The man merely frowned in response. He still kept close to his side, though, as they continued on their way to the animal clinic.

The last thing Scott needed was to start feeling under the weather. He still had to meet back up with his mom and Stiles. He could already imagine how his best friend was going to laugh at him later if he ended up dying from something other than the claws or teeth of a killer monster. His mom would be sad, but she would probably find comfort that it was at least from sudden illness.

Still, he had no intentions of being slowed down by anything, not after having come this far. He was not going to let a bit of stress and exhaustion get the better of him. He was going to meet back with Stiles and his mom even if it meant having to fight through more dizzy spells. He honestly hoped it would not come to that, though, since he did not want to play the vulnerable survivor in need of protection. Stiles would definitely never let him live it down.

* * *

Like I said at the beginning, this chapter is honestly more filler information than anything important. However, I couldn't just keep that filler stuff out or it would've made the time jump too big. Note that Scott's point-of-view starts just a little before the end of the last chapter. Imagine how strange it would be if I started with Scott and Isaac having a calm moment out in the streets instead of trying to recover from their near-death experience.

At the same time, I thought I'd try to put in some more information regarding Isaac in terms of this story. I know I haven't said much about him and who he is in here, but I'm also trying to make some parts vague so you can draw up conclusions as to his personality and overall role in this story. It's not that I don't know what his role is; both Scott and Stiles never knew of him before this. As such, it doesn't make sense for Isaac to be spilling his guts over his past to them for no apparent reason. I'm slowly cracking at his shell, but I'm sure you've already discovered some parts of him that I inferred from both his behavior and reactions.

But yeah, this was more of a calming chapter after having two or three straight chapters full of just action. Please don't forget to leave a review before you move onto the next story you want to read. They are helpful for me to see just how you readers are receptive to what I'm writing. That and I also welcome whatever kind of constructive criticism you might have regarding my writing. Thanks again for taking the time to read this, and I hope to see you all on the next update to this or any of my other stories on this site!


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: I accidentally posted Chapter 10 again, so sorry to those who got a new chapter notification and saw chapter 10. I've since deleted it and posted the correct chapter. Sorry again.**

Hello everybody! Here's the new chapter to this story. Yeah, it's half a day late from when I usually post new chapters. There's a perfectly good reason for that. It's because I've finally enrolled for my Master's degree in Education. That's right; I'm studying to become a teacher for middle or high school students! Isn't that great everybody? _!_

I know, you're all probably not as enthusiastic as I am. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some of you are calling me crazy for wanting to be a teacher and thus subject students to the boringness that is the classroom setting. Well, I'm studying to become an English teacher, and I'm figuring that it would be a good way to showcase how writing can be fun and not the boring research and development that high school has now made it out to be. Honestly, that was the bulk of all the writing I did when I was in high school eight years ago. Boy, that makes me sound very old. But yeah, there weren't a lot of "fun" writing done in the classroom setting, and I want to bring a bit of that along with the normal English teachable material.

On that note, it gives a reason as to why this chapter is a few hours late. Now that I'm enrolled in a Master's program, I've got more homework to do. At the same time, the Master's work is more demanding and works on a shorter time constraint than a regular undergraduate course would have. That means I'm now forced to dedicate more of my time on my academics and less on this site. But don't worry; that doesn't mean I'm going to forget or abandon this story. It just means I'll be having less time to write. That also means that you should expect delays on the updates every now and then. Hopefully, the delays won't be any more than a day at most, but don't be surprised if I end up late now.

With that said, I do hope that you'll all enjoy this new chapter. The ending was a bit rushed because I wanted to get this chapter out in a timely fashion, although it was within the realm of my original idea as to how I wanted this to end. Please don't forget to leave a review before moving onto the next story you want to read. While seeing you put it on your favorites list and following it makes me happy; I would like to know your thoughts on the story. What do you think works well or needs to be polished up on a bit more? Just a bit of constructive criticism would be nice. So until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

"I don't know whether to be happy we haven't seen a monster in a while or be paranoid," Scott sighed, nervously twirling his bat. "After being in that monster horde, I'm not sure what to think as safe anymore."

"Isn't surviving enough? It's probably the best we'll ever get," Isaac said with a half-smile. Scott merely made a strained noise of hesitancy.

The two had been literally tiptoeing through the ruined streets for a few minutes. While there were a few scares now and then, they never ran into another monster since the apartment incident. They did see a few occasionally, but they were far enough away to quietly walk on by. Isaac's lack of bad feelings was also enough to urge them on. His silence, however, made Scott uncomfortable to the point he had to use his inhaler to stave off a panic attack.

There were also the occasional sounds of gunfire echoing in the air. Scott winced every time he heard it, afraid it would draw the monsters to them. He saw Isaac constantly looking in the direction the sounds came from; it was like he was a wolf trying to figure where it happened based on distance. Either that or he wanted to see if monsters were heading to where the sounds were coming from. Scott assumed the latter since the other relaxed upon seeing a few walking away.

"You think it's the crazy woman who shot at us doing it?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Isaac replied with a shrug. "Have you been here since the beginning?" Scott nodded once. "Then you've probably heard a lot of shots going off. It's survival of the fittest in here. I'm sure you've fired off a couple shots yourself." This time, he was answered with a head shake. He then asked in disbelief, "How'd you managed to survive for two weeks without using a gun?"

"I was lucky to have Stiles as a best friend," the other explained. "His dad's the sheriff of this town. He picked me up a couple days after the news started to dedicate all their time on this. He figured it'd be safer if I hid at the station. He was right; the officers still at the station made it into a defensible spot."

"I'm guessing that plan fell through," Isaac speculated as they carefully stepped around a pileup. They hesitated when they saw a dead monster leaning against the warped metal. They kept on their way, however, after noticing its body was riddled with bullets.

"Before the phones stopped working, the station was getting a lot of calls for help. Some thought it best to go help whoever they could. Some came back with those they rescued; others either never responded back or said they were leaving town. Long story short, the station slowly lost whoever was left either by monsters or those who chose to make a run for it. It ended up just being Sheriff Stilinski, Deputy Sheriff Parrish, and me for the past few days.

"Then we got a call from my mom at the hospital. It was a phone rigged to the station's antenna the deputy sheriff made," Scott quickly explained upon seeing Isaac's confused gaze. "He spent some time in the military and learned a few things there. Anyway, my mom's been at the hospital since it all started. She's a nurse, so she was required to be there when they declared an emergency. Somehow, she was able to call the police station earlier this afternoon saying she needed help. Sheriff Stilinski volunteered to go, and it had been me and Officer Parrish until we got overrun a couple hours ago."

"So you've been hiding the last two weeks," Isaac concluded with a hint of amazement. "I'm amazed you were able to stay there for so long. I've been on the move since the beginning; I've seen lots of supposedly defensible places overrun so easily."

"Well, having a supply of weapons and ammo helped. That and being across a street to a convenience store kept our food and water situation bearable."

"And now here you are fighting for your life to survive and get back to your friends and family. Sounds a lot like something you'd hear from a horror drama series. All that's missing is you being the helpless survivor who contributes nothing to the group," Isaac added with a cheeky grin.

"I'm not helpless!" Scott countered with a scowl. "I've pulled my weight when I was in the station. I survived on my own when I had to run away from the police station. I managed to keep Stiles safe when he almost became target practice for one of the monsters. I think that all screams anything but helpless!"

"I can't say anything about the others, but are you sure it wasn't just a fluke you were at Stiles' side at the time?" the other asked, his grin growing as the seconds passed.

"If it was, then that was an amazing bit of dumb luck. But let me ask you this: how many times have I needed to be rescued by someone?"

"As far as I know, once." The veterinarian-in-training shot Isaac an incredulous look to which he countered with his now nearly obnoxious smirk. "I bandaged up your arm and kept it from getting worse."

"That doesn't count!"

"Oh, really? Then let me take back my scarf."

"Hey, get your hands off my arm!"

Isaac merely chuckled as he pretended to paw at Scott's bandaged arm. Scott irritably swatted his hands away every time he got close. He found it amazing how their conversation, starting off as serious, degraded into a bout of playfulness. While he was irritated at being the butt of said fun, Scott had to admit it was a good distraction from everything. Sure, they had to make sure to keep their voices down to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Still, it made their journey less stressful.

That was, of course, until they heard another gunshot. This time, it was much closer than the others. In fact, Scott saw a small spark form on the ground before them.

"Not another step!" a woman's voice commanded.

"No, it can't be!" Isaac whispered as he frantically scanned his surroundings. "She found me again? _!_ "

"What're you-"

"So this is where you wandered off to," the woman said, effectively cutting Scott off. "I thought it'd be hard to find you again, to be honest. I guess you spending six months on the run has given me high expectations," she added with a sadistic giggle.

"Wait a minute!" Scott exclaimed, his face lighting up with realization. "Aren't you the same person who shot at us a little while ago?"

"And I see you still have your tagalong," she simply continued. "Although I remember there being a second one with you. Let me guess; you killed him because he was becoming too much of a burden? Or did you leave him alone to die with the feral ones? I wouldn't put it past someone of your kind to do so."

"I'm not a heartless murderer, _Katherine_!" Isaac exclaimed, speaking the name with as much venom his voice could manage. Scott continued to look around for where the woman was, his grip on his bat firm as though it would help him survive a bullet. "Don't try painting me out to be like you!"

"Oh, you know better; it's 'Kate' to you. And you'll never be like me; not anymore, at least. Your pervious associations condemned you to a life I can never imagine being a part of. I would've thought you'd be happy at the thought of me ending your personal hell."

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about, lady," Scott nervously said in an attempt to defuse the situation. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but now's not the time to make this personal! I just want to get somewhere without dying!"

"Trust me; she makes everything personal!" Isaac growled as he looked up to the roof of a three-story office complex.

"Well, that's not a nice thing to say."

Scott followed his gaze and saw looking down at them from the edge a woman dressed in predominately dark clothing. In her hands was a large gun; he figured it was a semi-auto rifle since it looked a bit like the ones in the co-op war games he often played with Stiles. Her long dark-brown hair lightly fluttered against the wind, giving her the aura of a mysterious stranger whose intentions was unknown. However, he had a perfectly good feeling that she would prove to be anything but helpful to them.

"But I'm done with this back-and-forth," the woman, Kate, said before cocking her gun. "As fun as this was, it's time to put an end to the hunt. I'd be poetic and ask if you had any last words, but you don't even deserve to take one of my shots."

"Then why kill us?" Scott asked, allowing the arm holding his bat to fall to his side. "I don't know what you have against us, but we haven't done anything to you! At least, I haven't done anything." This earned him a scowl from Isaac which he promptly ignored. "You could at least let me go!"

"You're right; I've no personal reason to want you dead," she replied. Even though she was too far away to see, they could hear the sadistic smile in her tone. "You're simply guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. All I'm doing is killing anything that's either related to Hale Enterprises or witnesses to the atrocities of their work. It's my way of exacting revenge while tying up loose ends."

"Hale Enterprises? What's this got to do with them?"

"Does it matter, boy? You're a witness, and that thing you're with is just as dangerous as the feral ones! That's all I need to know in order to shoot you both where you stand." Kate then aimed her gun at the two. "Consider it an upgrade from having to constantly suffer through this hellhole of a town!"

Before he knew it, Scott was being tackled by Isaac. They did not even reach the ground when they heard a gunshot a moment later. There was a growl of pain as they both landed on the concrete with a heavy thud. Scott was still trying to make sense of what happened when Isaac got up and immediately dragged him to a nearby car. There then was another gunshot, this time the sound of it hitting metal echoing loudly in the streets.

"Oh, why don't you make it easier for us?" they heard Kate complain as she cocked her gun. "You can't get out of this one. I may be one woman, but I've got a clear sight of the entire street. I can kill either one of you before you run even three feet from that car!" As though to prove her point, she shot a few rounds at the concrete on either side of their cover. Even from the safety of their position, the two could see sparks rising from the point of contact. "I can wait all night, you know?"

"You better believe it!" Isaac hissed as he placed a hand against the car to steady his crouched position. "She's persistent to the point of being obsessed. She's not gonna stop until she's got what she's here for!"

"What, her chance at the so-called revenge she mentioned?" Scott scoffed after finally collecting himself and sitting against the car. The bat he dropped earlier laid abandoned at his side. "She's obviously insane if she thinks either of us have anything to do with it!

"Y-Your arm, Isaac!" he suddenly exclaimed after noticing splotches of red marring the ground below the man. Looking up, he saw his shoulder dripping blood from a fresh wound. "You're shot!"

"Its fine," Isaac brushed off while moving his scarf away from the injury. "The bullet went clean through. I'll take care of it later."

"But it might get worse! At least put some pressure on it to slow the bleeding."

"I said its fine!" the other growled, this time shifting his body a bit to keep his wounded shoulder from Scott's view. "We got other things to be worried about, like this crazy woman out to kill us!

"We don't have a gun, so the best we can do is make a run for it," Isaac quickly changed topics in a quieter tone. "We'll have to treat this like Call of Duty and stay in cover, though. I don't think there's any other way we'll make it out of this."

"But we need to keep moving to the animal clinic!" Scott reminded while searching for the closest safe spot. He still wanted to press the issue about the other's wound, but he caught the silent hint to drop it. "We can't keep getting sidetracked!"

"And I'm not gonna let either of us die just because you wanna see your mom and best friend again!" Scott recoiled a bit at Isaac's bluntness before choosing to stare daggers at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying you need to start thinking about your own safety. Even if your mom and Stiles are waiting to see you again; I don't think they'd want you risking your life any more than necessary. You need to draw a line somewhere!"

"I'm getting bored up here!" Kate announced in a sing-song tone. "If you don't want to make this fun, then I'll just end it with a grenade."

"Y-You're bluffing!" Isaac shouted back.

"You can think that if you want, but are you willing to bet your life on it? I'm sure you know how serious I can be."

For a moment, Isaac stayed quiet as though he were contemplating her words. It made Scott wonder if Kate really did have a grenade. If she did, then they had to move now! In the scope of things, he would rather be shot than blown to bits!

Isaac took the decision out of his hands, though, as he grabbed Scott's bat and threw it in the direction they came from. He then immediately took ahold of Scott's wrist and brusquely brought him to his feet. Kate immediately fired her gun, but it was aimed at the thrown bat and allowed the two a moment's head-start.

"Now this is fun!" she exclaimed before taking another volley of shots, this time at the men. However, they had since taken cover behind another ruined car. Still, Isaac kept them moving to the next nearest car even as they were being showered by a hail of bullets. "This is the chase I've come to expect from you. Don't disappoint me by dying so quickly!"

"You're insane!" Scott shouted as he allowed himself to continue being dragged along like a rag doll. It was not as though he had a better idea out of this mess, anyway. "We're just trying to survive out here like you!"

"No, I'm not trying to stay alive; I'm just cleaning up the mess Hale Enterprises made so I can personally take them down," Kate explained while continuing on with her assault. "Do you know how good a video documentary of this would be against them? In fact, I'm recording this right now. With a bit of clever editing, I can easily make it look like one of you is being chased by a feral monster and that I did what I could to save the victim. I'd be viewed as a hero while Hale Enterprises takes the fall for the deaths of you and countless others. It's a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone!" she exclaimed with a disturbing laugh.

"Just ignore her!" Isaac growled as they ran behind yet another car. "Just worry about getting out of this mess!"

He was cut short, however, when Scott suddenly felt a blinding hot pain on his right leg. He collapsed with a scream as his injury caused his leg to give away; Isaac still had a hold of his wrist and was able to drag him to the next closest bit of cover.

"You okay, Scott?" he heard Isaac frantically ask.

Scott wanted to answer, but the growing pain forced his throat to seize. He dared to look down at his leg and saw blood flowing from his wound. He started to panic at the sight, and that combined with his already ragged breaths caused him to hyperventilate.

He could hear Isaac shouting something, but it was all garbled. He tried to reach for his inhaler only to find his arms immobile followed by the sensation of being picked up.

"I-Isaac…!" he managed to rasp out, but he was already starting to lose consciousness. The world around him started to blur together and look like an abstract image. Many sounds had meshed together to create an unintelligible mess. The last thing he heard before succumbing to his pain and panic attack were the hail of bullets still raining down on them.

* * *

Yes, the plot's now starting to pick up again. Now we know who the lady who attacked the group earlier is; it's Kate! Yes, she has it out for Hale Enterprises and seems to think they're responsible for what's happening to Beacon Hills. At the same time, what is the Hale Enterprises? I'm sure some of you already know where I'm going with this, but I won't say anything more on the subject.

Yeah, poor Scott's just getting more injuries ever since he left the safety of the police department. Maybe he really is the poor helpless survivor who can't do anything to save himself. I'm just kidding; you know he can take care of himself! I made sure that point was driven home from the few times he fought and kept both himself and his friends safe.

And that's all I really have to say for this ending author's note. Thank you for taking the time to read this new chapter; I hope that you'll also take a little bit of time to leave a review saying what you think about the story as a whole. Thanks again, and I hope to see you all on the next update to any of my stories on here!


	12. Chapter 12

Hello everybody! Here's a new chapter to this story. I'm sorry for the delay in posting this. I'm sure I already mentioned it in the last chapter, but I'll say it again in case some of you forgot. I'm right now starting my masters program in secondary education. As such, my updates might suffer from a couple days of tardiness. I'm sorry if it becomes a chronic thing, but I will make sure to try and post these stories as soon as I can. Apart from that, I now have master's homework I need to concentrate on.

With that out of the way, let me give a huge thanks to **Verdreht** for having reviewed half of my story. I wish you had an account on here so I can simply send you a private message regarding all the constructive criticism you sent my way. Naturally, I can't make a full-length response on this author's note, so I'll just say that I took everything you said to consideration. Thanks again for the criticism!

Of course, I can't forget about **chiisaiaoiryu** and **Cloud of Creativity** for their reviews, the latter also going so far as to favorite my story. It's nice to hear that you think I'm doing alright with this. To be honest, it's the first time that I've actually fully committed myself to writing a story of this caliber. The last time I tried was with a story titled " _Star Force Adventures_ " back when I was just starting college 6 years ago. My writing skills were not as refined as they were now, so many of the action scenes were painfully redundant and rushed. Hopefully, I've improved a lot since then.

But yeah, thank you everybody for your continued support, be it in reviews or just taking the time to read my story. Please don't forget to leave a review, though. Even if it's not constructive criticism, just reading what you think about it is nice. I hope to see you all on the next update to this or any of my other stories!

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

"Yes, I finally made it!" Stiles exclaimed as he and Derek drove up to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic's front doors. The car's windows were up, so he did not hold back in vocalizing his excitement. Derek, however, squinted in irritation as the car's acoustics amplified the noise and assaulted his ears. "It only took a couple hours and a whole bunch of near-death experiences to last me a lifetime, but whatever! I'll take it!"

"If you could tone down your enthusiasm," Derek deadpanned while putting the car to a stop. He then shook his head a bit to clear the annoyance left behind. "The windows may be up, but those things can still hear us. Don't underestimate their hearing."

"Yeah right; they're not that bad," the rookie officer scoffed. Despite his excitement, he stayed inside while surveying the area for any dangers. "I mean, I know they have a really great thirst for blood. I can't tell you how long I've been in the open, though. There's been so many chances I could've been maimed or eaten. If they really had such good hearing, then I would be dead by now."

"How long have you been in town?" the other man asked, his eyes showing nothing but disbelief at what he heard.

"I literally just got to town tonight. Lost track of how long I've been running for my life, though. Why?"

"That explains your naivety."

"What was that, big guy?"

"I've been here since this all started, so I'm entitled to know more about these creatures than you," Derek ignored with a sigh. He then explained while carefully exiting the car, "Trust me when I say they have good hearing. I've been chased out of what I thought were good spots to hide more times I can remember."

"Then you must've had a string of bad luck," Stiles countered while shooting the other a scowl.

"And you must have no problem ringing the dinner bell."

"How smart of you, using my own setup against me," the rookie cop sarcastically replied. "Couldn't come up with your own comeback starter?"

"And take the credit for a bit of pointless wit? No thanks."

Stiles was now officially amazed and annoyed at Derek's sass. Even though his dad and Scott were the only ones able to handle his sarcasm in huge hauls; he never met anyone who was able to keep up with him. It honestly was a refreshing change of pace; although he had to admit it was frustrating to no longer be the only quick-witted one around.

In the short time they have been travelling together, Stiles had come to both like and hate Derek. He hated him for his lack of talkativeness and general no-nonsense attitude. If what they were talking about had nothing to do with survival, he showed little interest in it. Stiles saw the lack of any sense of distraction as a potential for having a stress-induced breakdown. Every time he brought it up, however, he was given a raised eyebrow that he interpreted as either amusement or annoyance.

At the same time, he had come to appreciate Derek's silence. Despite the conversations being one-sided, Stiles could tell the driver had been listening. It was not just the occasional nod of the head in hopes he would just shut up. He often raised one or both of his eyebrows in subtle response, most of them always done at appropriate moments. And while he stayed quiet, he did occasionally let loose a few one-liners when it was related to survival. Most of them were either genuine or held a hint of sarcasm. Stiles already felt a sense of comradery between them that felt almost as natural as if he were with Scott.

"So you're just going to stay outside?" Derek asked, kicking Stiles out from his thoughts. When he looked to where the former driver was, he saw him approaching the clinic's entrance. "I thought you wanted me to take you here."

"Yeah, I'm coming. Hey, wait a minute!" Stiles warily exclaimed as he caught up with the other. "I thought you said this was on the way to wherever it is you're going. Why're you coming along with me?"

"I figured I'd take the chance to scavenge the place. It may cater to animals, but it's still a clinic with useful medical supplies."

"But it's all just stuff for animals."

"Gauze and bandages can be used by humans, too."

Instead of admitting he forgot about that, Stiles chose to keep quiet. The only thing in his mind was being reunited with his dad and Scott; everything else was not important. And besides, he wanted to save face with his fellow survivor-in-arms. What he did not want now was to be tagged as a scatterbrain on top of being a chatterbox. Yeah, that was probably the last thing he should be worried about considering the situation. Still, he figured it was better to be known as a loudmouth team player than a spaced out mooch.

Derek had reached the door first, but he waited for Stiles to catch up. They were made of glass and offered a good view of the lobby area. Power still flowed to the building, so the lights were on and allowed them to see inside. While it did appear safe, there was a wall that separated the lobby from the main part of the clinic.

"Are you sure this is where you're meeting up with your friends?" Derek asked as he hid towards one side of the double-door entrance. He kept his eyes on the lobby but tilted his head in Stiles' direction who was on the other side.

"That's what Scott said; I'm just here because he said so," Stiles explained with a shrug.

"But the front seems too unguarded. This place is too big to not have someone keep an eye on the front door. You said your dad's the sheriff; I'm sure he'd have made sure to set up some kind of defense."

"Maybe he's not here yet. Or maybe there's only a couple people with him and they're guarding the back. That area has a wall that's made completely out of glass. Compared to there, this lobby's the last place to be worried about."

"It still don't think it feels right."

"Then stop thinking and start acting!" the rookie cop said before barging into the clinic with his BB pistol at the ready. While he was quiet with his approach, Derek still tried in vain to keep him from going in.

"He has no sense of self-preservation," he heard Derek growl as his footsteps followed close behind.

Already knowing the lobby was safe, Stiles cut right through to the doors leading to the clinic itself. It was a simple door with a window on it, but he had been here many times to know it was deceptively heavy. He assumed it was for in case some heavy animal decided to try and break it down. That then begged the question of whether or not such an animal around Beacon Hills exists.

Making sure most of his body was hidden behind the wall, the rookie cop carefully tipped his head just enough to see through the window. The next room was another reception area, but it was made specifically for animals. There were kennels lined up against the left wall, many of them empty. Those that were occupied had animals that seemed to be asleep; he was not able to tell for sure, however. Other than that, it looked pretty safe.

Derek shot him a look before staring at the doorknob beside him. Stiles got the hint and gave a small nod. With that, the older man slowly opened the door. It creaked slightly, causing both to wince at what it might attract. A few seconds of waiting, though, proved there was little to fear. At least, it meant there were no immediate dangers in the room beyond it. As to how the other rooms were, it could be a different story.

Stiles noticed off-handedly that Derek had no weapons on him as he flashed his gun into the exposed room. He guessed that it was back in the car and he forgot to take it with him. So to compensate, he made the unconscious decision to take point. Not only was he the one with some kind of a gun; he was also an officer.

Well, it was more like he was on a probationary period where he was supposed to be stuck behind some desk for the next year or two. Still, it did not diminish the fact that he swore an oath to protect those he could. He knew oaths like that were more customary than anything else; it was what his dad lived by, though. As far as he could tell, his dad was honoring those very words at this moment. If so, then he was not about to disappoint him by ignoring someone who cannot help themselves.

"Are you always move slow while you're thinking?" Derek whispered as they slowly made their way through the kennel reception. His hand was gently against Stiles' back as a sign for him to move faster.

"I'm trying not to bring attention to us," he hissed back, choosing to deflect rather than admit the other was right. All the while, he kept his gun at the ready. "There's still a few rooms further in. We could be in here with either monsters or crazy trigger-happy people. We need to figure that out first before they know we're here."

"And if we take too long, those dogs might wake up and start barking. That'll be a good signal to whoever's in here that they're not alone anymore."

"Alright, I get it; you want me to quietly hurry it up! Geez, who died and made you the boss? Now stop pushing me!" Stiles grumbled. The hand that was against his back went away, and he quickened his pace.

As they passed the center of the room, they noticed a couple of tables towards the end of the row of kennels. Once they had a better viewing angle, they realized it was a bathing station with a door to another part of the clinic next to it. What was in the bathing sinks, however, was no small wild or domesticated animal. Instead, there was the carcass of a monster in it with an arm draped over the side.

"What the hell? _!_ " Stiles exclaimed in a loud whisper. "Why's that here?"

"It's dead," Derek instead observed, having no hesitation as he approached it. "It looks like it took a shot to the head. I'm guessing a shotgun since the skull's in pieces."

"Too much information, mister!" the rookie officer groaned as he pointedly refused to look at the carcass. "I don't even know why you're standing right next to it; just don't tell me what it looks like!"

"And you're supposed to be an officer-in-training? I'd hate to see how you'll do in the field when there's a dead body involved.

"Anyway, it looks like whoever was here was examining it," Derek continued. He came to where Stiles was picking through some items on a nearby table and showed him a tray filled with medical instruments. "This is one of the trays of scalpels and surgical scissors. I guess the person's some eager scientist who wanted to see what made these things tick."

"How stereotypical of them," Stiles sighed with a shrug. "The whole town's gone to hell and all they can think about is studying these damned things. Like that's gonna help them live."

"Don't move a muscle!" a deep and gravelly voice suddenly commanded just as the door by the bathing station slammed open. The sound of a gun cocking came a second later.

Out of reflex, Stiles tried to turn to see who the person was. The action earned him a shot that hit the table beside him. The contents went flying and fell to the floor with a menagerie of clatters and shatters. The animals in the kennels were now awake and crying their head off in fear of the loud noise.

"God damn it; I'm not moving! Just don't shoot!" he hastily exclaimed while snapping his head back to the position it was originally in. He recognized the sound of both the cocking and gunshot as those that came from a shotgun. With how close he was to the shooter, he did not want to risk being filled with shotgun pellets.

"I won't miss next time," the person, a man, warned as he cocked his gun again. "Now put your gun on the table and slide it away from you. And to the other guy, slowly put down the tray and take out whatever weapons you're hiding."

"Sir, I promise that we're not here to hurt you," Derek calmly explained as the two did what they were told. Stiles could see from the corner of his eye the other turning his pockets inside-out and pulling up his shirt to show he was defenseless. "We're just here trying to look for somebody. That's all."

"Wait a minute; I recognize that voice!" the man said, this time in a less hostile tone. "Is that you, Derek?"

Feeling the tension in the room lessen slightly, Stiles chanced to turn his head towards the person again. This time, there was no threat to his life. Taking it as a sign he was allowed to, he finally got a good look at their attacker.

"Dr. Deaton?" he exclaimed as the familiar face registered in his mind. What came next probably should have been questions of his well-being or even excitement that he was still alive. Instead, the only thing that popped into his mind was, "What the hell do you think you're doing? You almost shot me!"

"Stiles!" Dr. Deaton breathed out as he relaxed the grip on his gun. The animals had now calmed down and were merely pacing around restlessly. "God, I'm sorry! It's been six months; I didn't recognize you with your hair cut like that. I honestly thought you were either a looter or someone who lost their mind!"

"Were you planning to use that same excuse if you actually hit me?"

"Just stop complaining and be happy you're okay," Derek sighed, ignoring the indignant stare the other cast him. He then made his way over to the veterinarian. "I didn't think I'd run into you again, Alan."

"Likewise, Derek," the doctor replied while clearing his throat. "Sorry if my voice was hard to recognize. All this stress has me losing my voice."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Stiles asked. He had since retrieved his gun and put it in the waistband of his jeans.

"We've run into each other a few times," Derek explained. "He's frequently visits the place I used to work at."

"Huh, small world," the rookie officer huffed, his shoulders finally beginning to relax. "I honestly didn't think you'd still be here, doctor. Why haven't you run away yet?"

"Because I wanted to see what I could learn about these things," Dr. Deaton replied as he motioned towards the carcass still in the bathing sink. "With everything that's going on, I doubt anyone's taken the time to figure out what these things are."

"That's probably because they're too busy trying to survive."

"True, it's nothing but chaos out there. That's why I thought it best to stay and wait it out when it first started. Clearly, that was a mistake. So instead of wandering aimlessly and asking to be killed, I figured I'd hide out and try to see how these things came to be."

"I think knowing how these things act rather than learning about why they exist is more important," Derek suggested. "Trying to figure out how they got here is pointless."

For some reason, Stiles thought he caught a hint of something in Derek's tone suggesting he was familiar with Dr. Deaton's method of working; more so than someone claiming to have only seen him in passing would know. Then again, it was probably the suspicious part of his mind trying to rationalize something he knew nothing about.

Either way, he was having a hard time believing how irrationally rational Dr. Deaton responded to the issue. The last thing he expected anyone to do was to go on a scientific spree, but the doctor somehow managed to make his veterinarian skills work and has survived so far. At the least, it meant he was not playing the role of a stereotypical scientist who only knew how to conduct research and had no way to defend himself. The show with the shotgun earlier was proof enough of that!

"Anyway, I can't imagine what you two have been through just to get here," the doctor replied as he finally moved from his position by the door. "Come into my office. I've got some food I managed to scavenge from the sandwich shop next door. I'm just happy the power's still on over there. I wouldn't have been able to stay as long as I have otherwise."

Just hearing that there was food was enough to calm Stiles' nerves even more. The last time he ate was that afternoon before making the final leg of his drive home. He had hoped to get a bite to eat at the diner, but that plan obviously fell through. Since then, he was too busy trying to survive and make sure Scott was okay. Now that he was reminded that food actually exists, he found himself wanting to satiate his long-ignored stomach.

A loud noise from the clinic's lobby tore him away from those thoughts, however. On instinct, Stiles immediately took cover behind the table and shifted around so he could have a good view of the lobby door. Derek quickly made his way near the door, hiding behind a nearby supply closet with a scalpel in his hands. Dr. Deaton took cover by his office's doorframe and kept his shotgun aimed at the lobby door.

"Is anyone in here?" a voice familiar to Stiles suddenly called out. "Please, my friend needs help!"

A moment later, Isaac barged into the room. His face was sweaty, and there was dried blood caking his left arm. To his right was Scott, but he seemed out of it for the most part. In fact, Isaac was supporting him with his right hand across his waist and his left holding onto the arm draped over his shoulder. It was only when Stiles calmed his excitement did he notice that his best friend was unconscious.

* * *

I figured I'd try something slightly different this time around. I've noticed that all of the action scenes I've written thus far always ended with a life-or-death scenario. This time, I wanted to go for the ending where their never was a real threat to the groups' lives. ...Okay, so having a shotgun aimed at Derek and Stiles is a life-threatening moment. What I meant was that it didn't escalate to them having to run away and pray they wouldn't be killed in the process.

But yeah, I've decided to introduce Dr. Deaton into the story! To be honest, I was not planning to do so, but I'm literally flying off the seat of my pants as I'm writing all these chapters. The only things with this story that I know about are the beginning and the end as well as a rough idea of the plot. All the middle portions of the story are completely ad-libbed and not planned ahead. Call me crazy, but I just can't finish a story if I plan out even a part of the middle sections. I guess it's because I want to also be like the readers where they're in the moment for the first time.

And yes, I know Dr. Deaton's voice isn't that deep and gravelly as I explained. I just needed an excuse as to why Derek and Stiles weren't able to recognize him immediately. Just because they were scared by almost being shot doesn't usually mean they suddenly forget a familiar voice, so that was my attempt at working around it.

I also know that some of you might be curious as to what happened in the moment between Scott fainting and Isaac arriving at the clinic. The reason I left that out is because Scott was unconscious for that entire span of time. This story is going to be written only in Scott and Stiles' point of view, albeit it only in limited third-person. As such, there's no way for Scott to know what was going on and thus no way for me to tell you guys what happened.

However, I am thinking of making a side piece to this story once it's over. In it, it will have stories regarding some of the characters that I've introduced but never really fleshed out for this main story. One of them will be about Isaac, and I assure you all that what happened in the gunfight between him and Kate will be revealed then. Until then, I just ask that you all be patient.


	13. Chapter 13

Hello everybody! Here's a new chapter to this story. Yes, this one is actually on time and being updated at his original time of about 1AM Saturday! I know, it's a stupid time to be up and uploading new chapters; especially since I'm now starting to earn my Master's degree, I need all the sleep I can get! Still, I am attached to this story and want to finish this regardless of what my other main priorities might be. So like I said in the last chapter's author's note, I'll try to post new chapters in a timely fashion even if it means having to miss a deadline every now and then.

But yeah, I don't really have much to say other than that. So let's move on to welcoming the new people to this story's community! The people who have followed our story since last week are **redvsbluemaster** , **AlisiaStilinski** , and **russianprincessaa**. To all three of you, I like to say thanks for taking the time to read my story and also choosing to follow it. At the same time, I like to extend further thanks to **redvsbluemaster** and **russianprincessaa** for adding this to their favorites.

Also, I would like to once again thank **Verdreht** for his individual reviews of each of my chapters. To have each of my chapters being reviewed rather than my entire story as a whole is a welcome change to how I usually receive reviews. It really gives me a more in-depth look as to how you choose to interpret my chapters, and I thank you for taking the time to give me detailed criticism.

And that's all I have to say for now. Thanks again for taking the time to read this story. Until the next update to this or another one of my other stories on here, everybody!

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

"Stop pacing," Derek wearily sighed as he heard footsteps walking in a quick rhythmic pattern.

"I can't; I'm worried about Scott!" Stiles growled in frustration as he continued to scuff the linoleum flooring.

"Then do something that doesn't have you rubbing against the floor. The sound's getting on my nerves." His tone was somewhat dismissive, and the rookie officer glared harshly at him. Regardless, he reluctantly forgave the stoic man as he had no emotional reason to care. He then took the man's advice and chose to plop into a seat beside Derek.

It had been about fifteen minutes since Isaac all but burst into the animal clinic with Scott unconscious in his arms. Dr. Deaton, having noticed the man's condition, immediately went into doctor mode and got prepped for an examination. He instructed them to put Scott in an operating room and give them some privacy. They had not heard a word since.

Isaac, however, managed to recap Stiles on what happened after they separated. Long story short, they had ran into the crazy lady that shot at them when they first met. He said that was how his arm ended up bloodied when a bullet struck him. Despite Stiles' insistence to have Dr. Deaton check out his wound, the man refused. He claimed it was nothing more than a deep scratch, one that did not cut through any muscle or major arteries. He even rolled his arm to prove he was not in pain. Stiles decided to let it go without a fight, but only because he was more worried about his best friend's condition.

And that was what brought them to where they were now, gathered in the clinic's area for animals where the window count was sparse. The veterinarian apologized for the rather strong smell of animal and explained it was the safest room that could safely house the three. None of them complained; they were either too tired or worked up to care.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," Isaac suddenly spoke from his spot nearest the door. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"For what?" Stiles asked. It came out gruffer than he had intended, and the other seemed to take it as a sign of anger. Derek also noticed it since he raised an eyebrow at the unexpected flare of emotion.

"For not taking care of Scott," he winced as he looked away from the rookie officer. "I know he's your best friend, and I can tell just from the bit of time I've been around that he means a lot to you. Because I was with him, I know you would've wanted me to make sure that he got here alright. And what did I do? I got him caught up in the middle of a hailstorm of bullets by that crazy woman! Now look at him; he's unconscious with a bad injury on his arm that I barely managed to wrap up!"

"And how is that not taking care of him?" Stiles asked, his tone more controlled this time around. "Sure, a scarf is hardly bandage material. Still, you did what you could to patch him up. And unless there's something I don't know, you got him here alive. That's more than I can ask for, considering the hell this town's going through! Yeah, he might've gotten knocked out along the way, but you didn't just leave him behind. You didn't think of him as dead weight and tried to just save yourself.

"So stop blaming yourself about what you couldn't control!" he firmly stated after taking a deep breath. "You taking care of Scott means a lot to me, Isaac! Yeah, I know I was skeptical about you being with us at first. I didn't know if you were using us to get somewhere or treating us as protection from Ms. Trigger Happy. Even if you were, you getting him here is proof that you're not treating this as an 'every man for himself' scenario. You earned both my trust and thanks for this."

Isaac did not respond immediately to Stiles' rant. All he could do was stare at him with his mouth slightly open. It was as though he were prepared for a verbal lashing rather than being showered with praise by someone he barely knew.

"Is it that hard to believe he's not angry at you?" Derek asked as he got up and carefully looked out a nearby window. "I've known Stiles for less than a half-hour, but I already know he lets his guard down around those he trusts."

"No, I open up to those I feel like are being straight with me," Stiles quickly corrected. "My trust in you is just barely starting to form."

"Really? I'd say you're being hypocritical since you clearly past that point with Isaac. Still, I guess our circumstances make it necessary.

"Anyway, I offered him a ride here; he had every reason to doubt my intentions," Derek continued explaining, ignoring the annoyed look shot at him. "He didn't, however, and instead chose to talk my ear off after a couple minutes of driving."

"Well, I was ready to bail in case you started doing something funny," the rookie officer admitted. "I mean, I already knew this place was close by, so I was keeping track of how long we were driving. If it took too long, then I was gonna think you were taking me to your buddies for a town apocalypse gangbang."

"What?" Derek and Isaac asked, the former's voice staying stoic and the latter high with surprise.

"Hey, I was within my right to think that!" Stiles quickly defended. "Have you guys ever read _The Walking Dead_ comics? There was a scene where Carl almost got raped by a couple of sex-starved survivors!"

"That's just a story, Stiles," Isaac reminded, having since recovered from his bout of self-pity. Derek kept quiet as his stoic surprise turned into barely concealed confusion. "Even if it weren't, those guys were already surviving for over two years. This is only the second week! I think sex of any kind would be the last thing on anybody's mind right now."

"But it's still possible! That lady that shot at us and then you and Scott a second time is clearly missing a few screws. If that's not a sign that people are starting to snap, then why don't we stay and see how long before other survivors lose it? Better yet, we can see which one of us will be the first to kill each other!"

"You really have an overactive imagination," Derek murmured with a groan before going back to his seat. "You're like a hyperactive high schooler."

"Try hyperactive college graduate!" Stiles boastfully corrected. "I'm now a criminology major who's just been certified to be a cop."

"A cop?"

"He's not kidding, Derek," Isaac acknowledged. "I heard the same thing from Scott. I know what you're thinking, though; he's too childish and loud to make it far."

"Hey, I resent that, Isaac!" the rookie officer growled while pretending to look hurt. It quickly faded, however, once he noticed something. "Wait a minute; I don't think any of us mentioned Derek's name at all since you got here. How'd you know?"

"Well, I think Alan let it slip when he was telling us where to take Scott," the young man bashfully replied. It almost sounded as though he was not sure how he should respond. "I mean, I was tired, too. Everything just happened so fast; I probably barely caught it."

"Is it really important for you to figure out how he knew my name?" Derek asked. "That should be the last thing on your mind right, especially considering your best friend's still getting checked out by Alan."

Stiles wanted to argue that it was important to him, that it was in his nature to pursue what he thought did not make sense. However, the door suddenly opened, allowing a tired Dr. Deaton to come through.

"How's Scott?" the rookie officer asked, seamlessly shifting gears as though his previous concern never existed. He also stood up and approached the doctor. "It's nothing serious, right? He just fainted from the stress of all this along with the blood loss, right? I mean, it's normal to be out of it when so many things are being thrown at you!"

"Slow down, Stiles," the doctor sighed while half-heartedly lifting his hands before him. "I've managed to patch up his wounds and take care of his asthma attack. With everything he's been through, I think it caught up to him. He should be awake in a few minutes, but he'll need a bit of time to regain his senses.

"However, there's something important I need to talk to you about," he continued as he motioned for Stiles to follow him into the next room. "You might not understand it at first, so I've prepared something to make it easier."

"What're you talking about? What's more important than knowing Scott's gonna make it through alright?"

"It depends on your definition of 'alright', Stiles."

"What?"

"Just do me a favor and don't ask questions right now," Dr. Deaton explained as he went towards a table that had some papers on it. Isaac and Derek had followed the two and were now gathered around said table. "I'd rather get through this as quickly as possible to spare you from any hanging questions."

"Does this have something to do with Scott?" Isaac asked as he stared at a paper in an open folder. Stiles followed his gaze and saw Scott's name written in pen on it.

"It does, Isaac. Like I said, he's physically alright. He's no longer having an asthma attack, and his wound's healing. I didn't even have to stitch it up."

"No stitches? But that can't be right!" the young man stated confusedly. "I've seen his injuries myself; it was pretty bad. Even after I wrapped my scarf around it, it was still bleeding right through. I know I'm not a doctor, but that sounds like something that needs to be stitched up!"

"Exactly. That's why I went ahead and took a closer look at the wound. Do you know how he managed to get it?"

"I-It was sometime after we got separated from Stiles. I didn't notice it until after we hid, but it was bleeding pretty badly. I think he got it caught against something when he fell. That place had so much crap on the floor, so I think that's how it happened."

"I can see why you guessed that; it looks just like a normal gash. However, that's not what it is," Dr. Deaton corrected while taking out a sheet underneath the first. "Take a look at this. It's a picture of Scott's wound along with others similar to it."

"Similar?" Stiles repeated, his brows knitted together in confusion. Still, he complied and looked at the pictures before him.

It was the first time Stiles saw Scott's injuries, and he winced at how it looked. There was blood caked all around it, and he could see what he believed to be muscle within the bodily crevice. However, he had to admit that it did not look too bad. He expected it to be a wider injury. Instead, it was rather narrow and no longer spewing out fresh blood. Either that or the picture was taken after Dr. Deaton cleaned the wound. Either way, it did not look like it would produce the amount of blood Isaac had described.

Underneath that picture was another that looked similar to Scott's. This one, however, had two puncture wounds on it. It looked almost as though the person got it caught in something and instinctively pulled away, causing the flesh to be torn. The entry wound was clear since it was much deeper on one end and gradually became shallow.

After comparing the two, he realized that Scott's wound also showcased an entry point. It was a bit smaller than the comparison photo, but the telltale sign of a deep cut becoming small was there. Apart from that, he saw little else that matched up.

"Are you saying that where his injury started is the same as the one in the example you're showing us?" Stiles asked. "How does that concerning?"

"Read the caption on the example," Dr. Deaton simply explained. The rookie officer did so and saw printed in small bold lettering the words "bite wound" underneath it. "That's what I classify Scott's injury as. It's not just some random scrape he suffered from some debris on the floor. He was bitten by something!"

"Bitten? _!_ " both Stiles and Isaac exclaimed; Derek merely let loose a grunt of curiosity. "I never saw him get gnawed on, though!"

"This isn't a bite, per se. It's more like he got his arm caught in a tooth and tried to pull away. I've looked at it carefully, and the point where the injury started has too specific a shape to be anything but a tooth puncture.

"That then brings about a very important question," the doctor stressed as he dug for yet another sheet of paper. "What ended up biting him?"

"What do you mean? There's nothing out there except for those damned monsters! That thing probably bit him just as we were separated back in the apartment complex! I don't know how it happened, but that's the only time I can think of!"

"I think you're right, Stiles," Isaac agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's the one who pushed you out of the way when that thing lunged. There weren't any other monsters that got near him since, so it had to have been then.

"But maybe it's just a regular bite!" he quickly added with a hopeful smile upon seeing Stiles' face fall dramatically. "I mean, I did say earlier that not all bites turn people into those things. Maybe he'll be lucky enough to survive it!"

"And that's why I'm asking to know what bit him," Dr. Deaton repeated. "Depending on what you tell me, I can figure out whether or not he'll turn into one of those things. Do either of you remember what the creature looked like?"

"How could I? They all look exactly the same!" Stiles exclaimed. He had since left the table and began to pace once again. "There's no difference to any of them."

"There are differences, but they're subtle," Derek explained after having been silent since the discussion's start. "There is one, however, that's the most prominent. It's the color of their eyes."

"And how is that important? Whether it's yellow or red shouldn't be a decider as to if a bite will turn someone!" the rookie officer countered.

"Unfortunately, I say otherwise," the veterinarian replied. He then pointed to the bathing station while saying, "I'm sure none of you missed the dead creature over there. Well, it nearly took my head off when I was first went next door to get some food. Suffice it to say, it was next to what I assumed to be its ally when it sensed and attacked me. After killing it, I used the two bodies as a chance to see what I could dig up about them."

"And how did you plan on doing that?" Derek asked despite the sounds of shock coming from Stiles and Isaac.

"Before I blew up that one's head with my shotgun, I noticed it had yellow eyes. The one it was hovered over were red. As such, I assumed they had to be genetic markers of some kind, perhaps a way to discern rank in their hierarchal chain of command. They already act like wild animals, so I didn't think the idea was a stretch. But to prove my theory, I took samples of their blood and injected the animals in this clinic with it."

"You injected the animals?" Isaac repeated, horrified at what he heard. "What if things smooth over and their owners come back to pick them up? Or what if they turned into one of the creatures and tried to kill you?"

"I really don't think Beacon Hills can recover from this," Stiles scoffed while staring at Dr. Deaton as though he were crazy. "I doubt these animals will be claimed anytime soon. And I'm sure he could handle himself if they went ballistic. If he couldn't, then I don't think we'd be talking to him now.

"But forget about that; aren't you committing animal cruelty?" the rookie officer asked, his attention now fully on the veterinarian. "Just because the apocalypse paid this town a visit doesn't mean you can just drop your morals!"

"Like you said, Stiles, I don't believe this town will survive the past couple weeks of hell. I'm sure the government has already caught wind of what's going on. The fact we haven't heard any signs of rescue indicates to me that they might still be trying to figure out how to best deal with the situation.

"As to your concerns of animal cruelty, I'm sure even you can admit that our situation is dire enough for me to look past the hypocritical veterinarian oath," Dr. Deaton continued while rifling through the pile of paper for something. "That's also not to mention that I felt my studies in animal biology could prove helpful in seeing what we're dealing with.

"So from what I've observed thus far, these creatures survive by creating more of their kind through biting their victims. There's no other explanation for their rapid rise in numbers. That brings me back to having collected blood samples and testing it on the animals," he said as he found the paper he was looking for and laid it on the table. "If you'll take a look at my report, I'm sure you'll realize my conclusions."

Doing as he was told, Stiles looked down at the new piece of paper. As Dr. Deaton had explained, on it were his findings through his impromptu research. The data was organized by both time and date; this allowed him to trace the doctor's efforts to about a week-and-a-half ago. Under each day, there were either two animals subjected to his tests. Each one had a label next to it saying either yellow or red.

"I'm assuming the colors relate to which creature's blood you used," Derek observed as he read over Stiles' shoulder.

"That's right, Derek. Make sure to pay careful attention to the end results of each test. I think you'll realize then why I asked which creature bit Scott."

Stiles could feel his stomach starting to turn. He already had an idea about what he might find as the results of Dr. Deaton's experiments. If they all reached to the same conclusion, then it would mean the end for his best friend. Still, there had to be exceptions to the bite! After all, he heard from Isaac himself that not all victims turned into creatures. If so, then there still was a chance Scott would get out of this no worse than he already is.

However, Isaac's gasp of surprise did little to calm the torrent raging in his stomach. It only made him hasten his already fast perusal of the document. He soon reached the section that was dedicated to the veterinarian's findings. It was then that he realized what caused the other to sound so shocked; even he could not help the whimper that escaped his throat.

"Th-This can't be right!" he argued as he stared Dr. Deaton down. The man simply met the stare with grave seriousness.

"So what color eyes did the creature that bit him have?" Derek softly asked, seemingly already knowing what the answer was.

Stiles looked back at the report in front of him. He was hoping that he simply read it too fast and misread the information. Even after reading through it over three times, the results were the same. All the animals injected with the blood from a yellow-eyed creature reported signs of nausea but nothing else. They all ended up fine. The others, though…

"R-Red!" he whispered as he stared at the word "turned" written by each animal that was given the red-eyed creature's blood.

* * *

Well, I think the ending of this chapter is enough to spell out "screwed" for Scott and Stiles. Now they can't exactly leave town together since Scott's been bitten by a red-eyed creature. That just forces the story to take a whole new turn.

Yes, I'm sure a lot of you already knew where I was going with this even before this chapter came about. After all, anyone who's watched _Teen Wolf_ already know that any bites received from an Alpha werewolf, those with red eyes, will turn into werewolves. However, that is not common knowledge in my story. For all the characters know, these creatures are just killing machines with bites that randomly choose if the victim is fine or becomes a creature. My story is completely separate from the world of _Teen Wolf_ except for the borrowed characters and setting. As such, you have to temporarily abandon what you already know about the universe to have a better enjoyment of the story.

Apart from that, there's nothing much for me to say. Yes, I decided to use Dr. Deaton as a means to deliver a plot twist and introduce the second half of the story. That had always been a part of the plan, although it did not quite happen the way I originally thought. Deaton was supposed to have died at this point but not before telling the group about his research findings. However, I thought I'd be nice and have him live. At the least, it would make the explanation on his findings easier since he's alive to explain things.

Thanks again for taking the time to read this story and for your support. Hope to see you all again on the next update to this or any of my other stories on here, everybody!


	14. Chapter 14

Hello, everybody! Welcome to the new chapter of this story. Again, it's another update that's miraculously on time. However, the master's work so far has been somewhat easy to manage. As such, I managed to scrounge up some extra time to pump this chapter out.

And it's a good time I had all this free time. Not including the words from my author's notes, this is one of the longest chapters for this story I've written. I don't know why, but this ended up getting longer and longer. Once you've read the material I've created, you'll see why it got this long. Of course, I'm not saying its all bad; then again, I am the writer. Me saying it's bad would be, well, bad. No, I'm just saying that I felt it necessary since the last chapter left open the doors of emotions. As such, this chapter has a few moments of emotion by most of the characters.

On that note, I'll stop talking so you can continue on with this new chapter. But before I do, allow me to thank **Of Alphas and Airbenders** for putting this story on their favorites list. I hope that this story will continue to entertain you as it has no doubt already done. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here!

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

"Are you sure you didn't make a mistake, Deaton?" Stiles asked for the umpteenth time. The doctor merely shook his head. "But there has to be something wrong!"

Since learning that Scott was bitten by a red-eyed creature, the rookie officer had been beside himself with worry. He had been denying it for the past few minutes, putting to question the doctor's impromptu scientific findings. He was given the same answer every time he asked, however. He explained after the fifth time that six animals turning feral after being given blood from a red-eyed monster was more than a coincidence. Regardless, Stiles continued to deny the obvious truth before him.

"For god's sake, Stiles; just accept it!" Derek suddenly exclaimed, irritated enough to not even bother filtering his aggravation. "Your friend is going to turn into one of those things. It's not going to change by you repeatedly denying it!"

"Then what else am I supposed to do?" Stiles snarled back.

"For one, stop pretending that none of this is happening," the man replied, purposefully stepping into Stiles' space to accentuate his seriousness. He was close enough for Stiles to feel his warm breath repeatedly hitting his face. "It's not helping anyone! Once you're calm enough, I suggest you spend the rest of your time with him. Every minute you deny the truth is a minute less you have to say your goodbyes."

"But I don't want to do that! Scott and I were supposed to get out of here together with our family! If anything, I'm the one who should've been bit! Newbie survivors are usually the ones to die first, after all!"

"Don't say things like that!" Isaac exclaimed. He had taken a seat since the revelation of Scott's fate. Even though he was looking straight at Stiles, his eyes looked as though they were staying beyond him. "It could've happened to me just as much as it could've to you! Scott was just the unlucky one."

"What if there's some kind of cure to all this, Isaac?" Stiles asked, his brown eyes shining with hope. "Don't you think it's possible? I mean, Deaton's been conducting his experiments for who knows how long. Maybe he figured out some way to create one!"

"If I did, it would've been the first thing I'd have mentioned," the doctor stated, his tone trained in monotony for such situations. "I'm not so cruel as to beat around the bush, especially since this is concerning an employee I care a lot for. There is no cure; the best I've managed to create is a suppressant that would temporarily retard the effects.

"Is that really what you want, though?" he immediately asked upon seeing Stiles' face light up. "Do you want to prolong Scott's transformation just so you can have some extra time with him? I don't recommend it. It's nothing but a false hope!"

For the first time since the news was broken, Stiles was speechless. Scott was his best friend; there was not anything he would not do to help! Even if everybody said there was no cure, he was not going to stop looking. He was going to find some way to help; he just needed to know where to start.

At the same time, he knew he was simply chasing after ghosts. As far as he knew, what happened in Beacon Hills is an isolated incident. There was little chance of this same scenario having happened somewhere in the world. The best he knew of now was the medicine that Dr. Deaton created. It would buy him some time, but was he ready to subject Scott to hope he knew to be false? Would Scott even forgive him for putting him through a prolonged torture?

"Who's saying I _don't_ want the shot?" Scott suddenly asked.

Everyone turned their attention towards the exam room where they left Scott and saw him standing in the open doorway.

"Scott, you shouldn't be moving around!" Dr. Deaton immediately chastised as he made his way towards the young man. "I just bandaged the wound, and you're still recovering from your asthma attack."

"Thanks, Deaton; but I already heard everything thanks to Stiles' shouting," Scott simply said while gently getting rid of the hand on his shoulder. "I'm basically a dead man waiting to become whatever those things are."

"I call them werewolves," the doctor supplied. It earned him confused stares from Stiles and Scott. "It's because of how they behave in a pack and turn others through bites."

"I never thought you were interested in mythology," the young veterinarian replied with a half-hearted chuckle. "It does kinda make sense, though. But yeah, I gave it a good run. I guess I pushed my luck too much by staying behind for two weeks."

"You give up and I'm never gonna forgive you, Scott!" Stiles exclaimed before stomping over to his best friend. Dr. Deaton had stepped aside and allowed the two to get together. "This might be the worst thing you've ever faced, but that's no excuse to throw in the towel. We took care of everything life threw at us; we can beat this, too!"

"And how do you plan to do that? You'll babysit me and make sure my inhaler is always in my pocket?" the young vet asked, his smile and tone sardonic. "This isn't like when we were in our high school lacrosse team, Stiles. I'm pretty sure there's no way to reverse this. Deaton's already said he did all he could, and he's the only one of us qualified enough to run these kinds of experiments."

"Then why don't _you_ take a look at his research?" the rookie officer suggested, his arms flailing in desperation. "Didn't you also study animal biology? You're qualified to at least run a check over his work!"

"Stiles, you've always been smarter than me in the science department. Even you don't have to have a major in the field to know it takes time to look over another's work, especially if it's all unfamiliar territory. I doubt I have that long to both learn the genetic markers and figure out what, if anything, went wrong. There's nothing I can do! It's like that bearded guy said; just accept it."

"As if I'm gonna just roll over like some complacent dog! You know me better than that. I'll take over Deaton's research myself if I have to! I won't give up on you! We agreed that we will get out of here together with our families. I'm not gonna have you breaking your end of our promise!"

"It's not that I don't empathize with you," Derek stoically cut in, "but you're getting a bit hysterical. I'm starting to wonder if the pressure's gotten to you!"

"Derek's right," Isaac responded just as Stiles was about to blow up on Derek. "I-I think you need to take a couple steps back, Stiles. You're starting to sound like someone who's about to snap at any moment! You can't keep on denying what's happening or reality's gonna end up crushing your mind!"

As much as Stiles wanted to continue arguing, he knew it was going to be futile. It did not matter however many scenarios of discovering a cure he managed to come up with, he knew none of them were possible. This was not some kind of zombie movie where the characters find a cure towards the finale. This was reality, and it proved to be an extremely bitter pill for him to swallow. In the end, he was just fooling himself into believing there was a way to save Scott, the only best friend whom he considered a brother.

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Isaac?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper as it started to break. "I'm not ready for him to go!"

"That's something I learned to do the hard way," Scott replied as he placed a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder. "You can't just put everything on hold when people are about to die. You need to keep going if you want any hope of surviving. Even if it means you have to leave them behind while they're turning into a monster," he added in a whisper too soft for anyone other than Stiles to hear. He then turned his gaze sideways, his eyes glistening as his voice also began to break.

"You're not the only one who's lost someone to these things, Stiles," Isaac softly said. "I still have a couple friends out there trying to survive, but I've also seen with my own eyes those I've known get killed. I won't lie and say it gets easier to deal with as you see more people die; the first time's always the hardest, though. You can deny it, but your crash with reality will be that much harder."

"Even if you figured out how to make a cure tonight; do you really think you can do it?" Derek asked, this time with a hint of understanding in his words. "Just think about how hard it was for Alan to simply make a suppressant shot. You can't possibly have all the materials on hand to make a cure!"

"He's right; I've neither the materials nor equipment to even give it a try," Dr. Deaton admitted. He had since walked back to the table and straightened up Scott's medical file that had been abandoned. "That's also not mentioning the fact that I don't have any idea where to even start. I was already lucky enough to find a way to use a red-eyed werewolf's blood to slow the rate of transformation.

"However," he continued, "the same can't be said about this place I know of. They have state-of-the-art equipment at their disposal, but-"

"There's a place out there that might be able to make a cure? _!_ " Stiles practically shouted. Derek and Isaac both shot him a stern glare reminding him of the monsters still outside. He took no heed of them, however, and took over Dr. Deaton's personal space. "Why didn't you say that earlier? It would've saved me all this stress!"

"I never said I knew where to make a cure!" the doctor corrected while taking a few steps back. "I was only raising the possibility of a place capable of doing so. Still, I don't suggest you go there. It's too dangerous outside; I'm still amazed how you, Scott, and Isaac managed to get here alive!"

"I don't care!" the rookie officer exclaimed. "If there's a place that might be able to help Scott, then I'm going. I don't care if it's dangerous; neither you nor anyone else here is gonna stop me!"

"You know there's a difference between bravery and stupidity, right?" Derek deadpanned with a growl. He also shot an annoyed look towards Dr. Deaton. "Alan's only making a guess. I don't think I have to tell you how idiotic it is to base a decision on that!"

"The bearded guy's right," Scott agreed as he purposefully set himself between Stiles and the exit. "Don't kill yourself just to help me!"

"Then do either of you have a better idea? If so, I'm dying to hear it!"

"Wh-Why don't we listen to what Alan's thinking before we decide on anything?" Isaac suggested hesitantly as though he were afraid to butt into the heated moment. "I-I think we owe Alan that much."

"And you think that's going to make Stiles' suicide mission easier? It won't change the fact that he'll be chasing after a rumor at best! I don't need to know him as well as you to tell him that this is a stupid idea. So if you think I'm going to let him go through with this, then you are certifiably crazy!"

"But it's not your choice," Dr. Deaton said with a heavy sigh. "You can try to stop Stiles, but expect a fight on your hands."

"And don't think I can't throw a punch!" Stiles added while shaking a fist to emphasize his point. "You stop me, you'll be lucky to not have a broken nose!"

"And you're supposed to be a new officer? You're too childish and inflexible to be one." Derek then let out a sigh as he closed his eyes in thought. He then said after opening them and shifting his gaze between Stiles and Scott, "Just don't come crying to me once you realize I'm right about this."

The rookie officer gave a terse nod in thanks before bringing his attention back to the veterinarian. "Tell me what you know, Deaton."

"Again, let me say that you won't necessarily find a cure," the older man reminded. "In fact, I doubt this place I have in mind has had much chance to study this pandemic. You'd be lucky if you can find something of worth there!"

"And like I said before, I don't care!"

"You should; this is a place that's at the pinnacle of research and development. They can move fast at the first sign of trouble, be it in the medical or technological industry. If they don't have anything on this, then you've risked your life for nothing!"

"Wait a minute; you're not talking about the place owned by Hale Enterprises, are you?" Derek suddenly chimed in.

"I am. The H.E.L. is the only place I can think of."

"The H.E.L.? Is this a sign that Stiles needs to go six feet under to find the cure?" Scott asked, chuckling a bit at his attempt at a joke.

"It's an acronym for the Hale Enterprise Laboratories," Derek explained, his voice tight as though he was forcing his words. "Hale Enterprises built the structure along the outskirts of town around eight months ago. It's a place where their scientists go to conduct many of their experimental research."

"Well, that explains why I've never heard of it," Stiles said after palming his forehead at Scott's bad joke. "I was too busy getting ready for my officer training in Sacramento to follow the local news. So what does this place research that they need to build a special place to do it in?"

"Technology and medicine specifically, although they do dabble in other things that catch their interests," Dr. Deaton explained as he pointed to a picture pinned on one of his walls. On it was him posing with a group of people dressed in lab coats. In the background was a building with the words "Hale Enterprise Laboratories" slapped along it. "I've been invited there a few times when they had need for my expertise in animal medicine. As such, I can say first hand that they work with extreme efficiency and make good use of their time and resources. Of course, to move so fast means they need a facility dedicated to a constant flow of test resources. That's the reason why it exists."

"Okay, now it's starting to sound more like a kidnapping scheme," the rookie officer said with a frown. "Technological experiments are one thing, but anything that deals with medicine usually requires the use of live test subjects. Where are they getting their constant supply of live things?"

"Through the cloning process," Isaac explained. Stiles looked at him as though he should not have known the answer. At the same time, he noticed that Isaac was less than comfortable putting his two cents in the topic. "That's how they manage to conduct successive tests. Only after the results are gathered will they move onto human experimentation."

"That's what they advertised when they first opened the facility," the veterinarian replied. "It's the main reason they called for my help, so I could verify that their clones are medically the same as the originals. Cloning requires state-of-the-art medical equipment and technology, so I think your best chance at finding a cure for Scott would be there.

"But you won't have an easy time getting there. It was built near the Beacon Hills forest where the Reserve is. It'll take you awhile. If you're set on going, you'll need to take Scott with you."

"Is it because Scott might turn into that werewolf thing while I'm gone?" Dr. Deaton simply nodded at Stiles' explanation. "Figures. Nothing's easy anymore. And how long does the process take?"

"I would guess three hours."

"You guess? _!_ " the rookie officer exclaimed.

"What else were you expecting, Stiles?" Scott asked, shaking his head to clear what was most likely the ringing in his ears. "I don't think Deaton's had a chance to conduct any human tests."

"Then why's he guessing?"

"Because it's the best I can do, Stiles! Apart from animals, I've only seen one person go through a complete transformation. The process took just under three hours, so that's what I'm basing my estimation on. The suppressant shots hadn't been made yet, however. If they're used, they'll delay the process by about thirty minutes."

"And that's per shot?"

"That's right, Scott. However, they're most effective when taken at the first signs of any symptoms or when the bite first occurs. I gave you one earlier to keep you from changing while I checked you out. It should be wearing off in ten minutes."

"And how much do you have left?" Stiles asked with a heavy sigh.

"Four shots. It's all I could make."

"So that gives us two extra hours to work with," Isaac surmised.

"What do you mean 'us'?" the rookie officer asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I figured you'll have a hard time doing this by yourself," the man explained, his gaze averted as though he were embarrassed. "That and I feel responsible for this happening to Scott."

"You're still beating yourself over it? I already said its fine!"

"Even if I weren't, you shouldn't go on your own! It's hard to protect both yourself and him at the same time! Believe me, I know firsthand. So if you're going through with this, then I'm coming along!

"And besides," Isaac added with a bashful half-smile, "I consider you both my friends. I know we've met for only a couple hours, but I trust you both with my life. I want to prove that you can trust yours with me. So let me start with this."

"I think you've already proven yourself when you helped us out of that pack den mess," Scott replied, the smile clear in his voice. "You honestly could've escaped by yourself, but you put yourself at risk to make sure Stiles and I were okay. And then you made sure I got here after I went unconscious. I don't know about Stiles, but I've trusted you since the start."

"Hey, don't paint me to be a doubter!" Stiles quickly countered.

"Alright, stop with the dramatic 'I'm your friend' talk," Derek said while loudly clearing his throat. "The more time you spend talking means less time for us to get to and find the cure in Hale Enterprise Laboratories."

"Wait, now _you're_ coming with us?" the rookie officer exclaimed.

"Well, I am the only one with a car. I doubt you'll ever make it if you walked the entire way there. Unless Alan has a car he can let you borrow," he suggested while casting a glance at the veterinarian. The doctor merely shook his head. "Then that settles it. I'll go ahead and drive you guys there. After that, you're on your own. Is that good?"

"Are you kidding? That's great! Thanks a lot!" Stiles then closed the gap between them with a spontaneous hug. Derek was caught off-guard and fell backwards with the rookie officer still clinging onto him.

"But why're you helping us?" Isaac asked, frowning as he tried to keep from laughing. "I thought you were only here because Stiles needed a ride."

"My priorities may be for the safety of me and my friends, but even I have a conscious," Derek said after prying Stiles off. He then got to his feet and brushed the dirt off of his leather jacket. It had opened a bit and revealed a dark blue Henley underneath. "If you three are going through with a suicide run, then I'll at least give you a fighting chance. Consider it as my good deed for the night."

"Thanks, man," Scott replied with a smile and a nod. The rookie officer had since came to his side with a stupidly wide grin plastered on his face. "You know, I don't think I ever got your name."

"It's Derek."

"Alright, Derek; promise me one thing if you plan on coming along."

"You mean an ultimatum?"

"No, it's a genuine request. Make sure Stiles doesn't try anything stupid just to save my life. If there's no hope of curing me, then do whatever you need to get him out of this town. If you have to, knock him upside the head!"

"Are you saying you don't appreciate my help?" Stiles asked while punching Scott's arm.

"No, I'm just making sure you don't get yourself killed for nothing."

"So me trying to save your life is nothing? You know how much it pains me to hear that from you?" the rookie officer groaned so theatrically that it was clearly fake. Everybody merely ignored him.

"I'm only planning on taking you guys there before going back to my friends," Derek explained. "I won't promise anything after the fact, but I'll take Stiles with me if things turn bad fast during the ride."

"That's good enough," Scott nodded. "Now come on, everybody; it's time we got ready to go to Hale Enterprise Laboratories!" he added, his tone full of confidence.

Stiles made a noise of agreement before deciding to check on his BB pistol and seeing if he could find Scott something to replace his lost bat. Isaac went over to Dr. Deaton who then led him into the operating room Scott had been in. He was most likely getting the suppressant shots and whatever else they might need. Derek simply leaned against the table, shaking his head at the suicide mission he managed to get roped into.

* * *

Yes, the first half of this chapter was definitely a roller coaster ride of emotions. Being that Stiles really cares about Scott and would do anything to make sure he's safe, I figured the emotions were warranted. It did, however, make the introduction of the Hale Enterprise Laboratories, H.E.L., a bit hard to execute. Granted that I didn't come up with the building until halfway through the sob fest of Scott dying, but I still had a hard time trying to find a good point to insert the idea. Thankfully, it ended up working.

And before any of you start to ask, Scott never heard Derek's name being said. Yes, they mentioned his name before Scott came out of the exam room, but he didn't necessarily catch the name. Yes, he heard everything else they were talking with regards to bites and transformations, but I think he was more interested in that than catching people's names. And if you did a search for Derek's name on your browser, you'll see that he's never specifically mentioned in character quotes after Scott joins the conversation. Just letting you all know in case you start to ask.

So yes, the next portion of the story is now kicking off. It's time to find the cure for Scott at the Hale Enterprise Laboratories. And yes, I specifically chose the name where the initials will spell out hell, minus the second L. Call it a bit of foreshadowing of things to come. What? You thought I was going to make it easy for them to get? If so, then you don't know what's going on in my head!

And that's all I really have to say for now. Thanks again for taking the time to read this new chapter, and I appreciate the support from all of you who reviewed, followed, and placed this story on their favorites list. It all really means a lot to me. Until the next update to this or any of my other stories on here, everybody!


	15. Chapter 15

Hello everybody! Long time, no see in terms of this story! Sorry for not having updated in almost a year. However, I do kind of have a good reason for having forgotten about this. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with my graduate course. Okay, it does a little, but that's not the main reason.

I had semi-abandoned this story because my original flash drive that held this chapter broke. While that normally would not have been too much of a problem, I had practically finished that chapter with the exception for a couple extra paragraphs. When I went to finish the story and post it, the flash drive decided to break on me. The part that connects to the computer refused to be inserted, and just to get the files extracted could cost between $300 and $600 dollars! Even they don't know the price point since they first need to know which extraction technique will work, but they can only know that when the flash drive is with them. While I do intend to still get it fixed one day since it has some very important documents on it, I need to wait until my bank finally acknowledges I have a better job and raise my credit limit.

That said, I became quite dejected and had to put this story aside for a long while. However, it ended up being a blessing in disguise since it allowed me to actually think about the chapter. After doing a bit of reflection, I realized what I was going to post was moving towards the cheesy side of writing. It honestly sounded good at the time it was written, but hindsight is always 20/20. That's when I decided to rewrite the entire chapter from scratch. Thankfully, I have a good mind for remembering details once I've written them down; it was just a matter of rewriting it and changing what sounded bad.

And there you have it, a new chapter born after almost eleven months of dormancy. The hibernation period is over, and this story has awaken once again! However, it probably won't follow the one-week update schedule I had before this story's hiatus began. I'll update it whenever I can, but this is second to my graduate courses I'm still in. I only have six or so months left of classes, but it's the last parts that can make or break my chances at getting my Master's degree. Oh well, them's the breaks.

So yeah, thanks for listening to my rant. I'll leave you alone to read the new chapter now. Thanks again for being patient, and please don't forget to leave a review - preferably constructive - before you move onto the next story you want to read!

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

"Scott, you sure you're okay?" Stiles asked for the umpteenth time since the group began their drive to the Hale Enterprises Laboratories – H.E.L. for short. Scott merely rolled his eyes in response. "Hey, don't give me that look! I'm just worried about you."

"But you keep asking me every couple minutes," the young veterinarian groaned. "And I tell you the same thing every time; I'm fine!"

"I doubt he'll believe it now," Isaac murmured as he fiddled with the strap of a black bag resting on his lap.

"And I'll keep saying you're not!" the rookie officer exclaimed, pointedly ignoring both men. "How can you be fine when you're in the middle of a werewolf transformation? At best, that's a terminal illness put on fast-forward!"

"At best? That's pretty bleak even by your standards," Derek said as he carefully drove around some debris. Whether he purposefully ignored Stiles or was concentrating on the road, he failed to notice Stiles' harsh glare.

"As I was saying," the rookie officer continued, "I don't consider you fine until we find that damned cure. But even if that wasn't that serious, there's still the part about where you got shot in the leg!"

"What about it?" Scott asked, this time more in confusion than frustration.

"You were shot in the leg!" the other repeated exasperatedly. He wildly pointed at said appendage to emphasize his point. "How can you be so flippant about it?"

"Because it's nothing to worry about. I got in the car just fine, didn't I?"

"And that's what's worrying me, Scott. I don't care what kind of pain killers Deaton put you on; there's no way you should've been able to walk as normally as you did!"

"But it's really okay!" As emphasis, the young veterinarian began to wiggle his supposedly injured leg. He ended up accidentally hitting the back of Derek's seat to which he received both a growl and glare through the rear view mirror. Scott immediately shot him an apologetic look before turning his attention back to Stiles. "You see? There's nothing wrong with me."

"And how does that not worry you? If you can't feel pain, then what's keeping us from knowing you're hurt? You could be having a massive bleed-out session and none of us would know until it's too late!"

"I'm sure we'd notice before it gets that bad," Isaac said, this time turning around to face both Scott and Stiles. "Besides, I doubt it'll get to that. If those things didn't feel pain, then we'd have been dead a long time ago. In the absence of pain, anyone can power through almost any injury. We've seen them struggling at times whenever we attack them, so we know they're feeling something.

"And besides, there's a reason why Scott's pain is gone so quickly. It's because of his werewolf transformation." Both young men simply stared at him in confusion. "Deaton told me a bit about what he figured out while we were getting the suppressants ready. From what he's seen, werewolves do have the ability to feel pain. On the other hand, they recover from it at a much faster pace than a human would. However, the rate of recovery depends on the severity of the wound. If it's something minor like a bullet to the leg, then the pain would only last a short time."

"You consider getting shot a minor injury?"

"Compared to being stabbed or getting an arm cut off, yes. Even as a werewolf, one could get stabbed in the wrong place. That and they can't exactly recover well from losing a limb."

"How exactly did Deaton figure all this out?" asked Scott.

"I'm guessing he probably used the werewolf in his clinic as a torture test subject before blowing its brains out," Isaac surmised with a shrug.

"Alright, stop right there? I got the picture!" Stiles exclaimed with a visible shudder. "Don't make me remember that. I'd rather have my mind filled with images of gay bondage porn than that gory image, and I hate seeing that kind of sex!"

"Bondage porn?" Derek asked. This time, he stared at Stiles through the rear view mirror with a raised eyebrow. Even Isaac stared at him with wide eyes while Scott let out a quiet groan. "Do I even want to know how you got to that comparison?"

"Because it's probably one of the worst clichés in the gay porn industry. Granted that it's done with women, too, but it's completely overdone with the gay porn scene. And that's not mentioning that not all gay men like that stuff!"

"I'm not going to comment on that," the driver groaned as he concentrated his sights on the road once more. "I don't know how you can pull a comparison between the weirdest things, Stiles."

"As if I'd expect much else from someone who can't even manage to be a ball of positive energy."

"Says the one who likes to make pessimistically hopeful comments. I'd tell you to shut it, but I doubt you'd listen."

"Same here," Isaac agreed, although he had more of a teasing tone to it. "Then again, I'd be more worried when he stops being so overly pessimistic."

"Yeah, he's not exactly an optimist," Scott lightly chuckled. "Hang around him as long as I have, though, and you'll notice hints of it shine through every now and then. It's what he likes to call pragmatism."

"Is it, though? It feels more like he's letting the winds of panic control where he goes," the front seat passenger shrugged with feigned indifference.

"Hmm, that's also pretty accurate," the young veterinarian agreed.

"Alright, I get it? Just stop talking like I'm not even here!" Stiles groaned as he crossed his arms. "If you both weren't either my best friend or ally in this hell, I'd put a bullet through your skulls for that.

"And don't think I can't tell you're enjoying me being roasted, sourpuss!" he continued while pointing an accusatory finger at Derek. "The rear view mirror doesn't just work for you, you know? I can see you trying to hide that smirk!"

"What smirk?" Derek simply asked without addressing his random nickname. "I can't exactly have one since I'm not a ball of positive energy."

"Wow, didn't think you could be sassy," Isaac chuckled as he adjusted the grip on his bag. "Kinda refreshing, if you ask me."

Stiles pouted in lieu of making a snappy comeback. He only knew Derek for no more than a couple of hours and had the impression he was, as he said earlier, a sourpuss. To then hear an unexpected lighthearted counter momentarily took him off-guard. That moment was enough, however, to derail his train of thought.

Instead, he stared out the window and thought about everything that happened since he came back. He had yet to be a part of the police force and had faced death more times than one should their entire life! Then there was the fact he was forced to deal with dead people turning into monsters because they were attacked by one. It all sounded more like a zombie outbreak than what Deaton coined a werewolf transformation, but Stiles could honestly care less.

Now here he was in the middle of his practically dead hometown trying to find a cure for Scott so he would not turn into a killer monster. He should have listened to his gut back at the diner and dragged his best friend out of town kicking and screaming if needed. Still, he knew his conscious would not have let him live it down if he abandoned the woman whom he considered a second mother. That and he would have to suffer through Scott's never-ending whining for him to turn around. In the scope of things, this was definitely better than having to suffer a constantly whining best friend.

Then there was the slightly reassuring fact there were other live people going through the same hell. Unfortunately, the crazy lady they saw earlier thought they would be good for target practice; she even did it to Scott and Isaac twice! To say that Stiles would be happy to never run into her again would be an understatement.

That said, he was also happy to have run into a couple of friendlies along the way. Isaac was one of them, though he would be reluctant to admit it outright because it would go against his naturally suspicious nature. Stiles still was not sure if the man had an endgame of sorts that resulted in them being used. Regardless, his outlook was softened after realizing he protected Scott from potential doom against the trigger-happy woman. As far as he was concerned, Isaac earned a place under his small list of trusted people.

Derek also became a part of their little ragtag group of survivors courtesy of Stiles. He owed the bearded man a lot for having helped take him to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. Now here he was willingly driving them to the H.E.L. facilities just so they can find a cure for Scott. This was a pretty big deal, so he was still wary about the older man's intentions. Still, he could not find any kind of gain to be had for giving them a ride. This did not mean he was ready to call this a no strings attached deal, though. If there was some favor Derek was hoping to hang over their heads, then he would probably spring it on them the moment they arrived.

"You're overthinking again," Scott suddenly said, tearing Stiles from his thoughts.

"Wh-What? I'm not!" Stiles automatically replied.

"You are when you're all spacy and actually quiet for longer than two minutes," the other countered with an eye roll. "Stop worrying about everything."

"I'm not," the rookie repeated, this time more honestly. However, he probably would have gotten to that had he not been interrupted. "I'm just trying to be realistic. Someone needs to stay pessimistic! I can't tell you how many times people in horror shows die the moment they think everything's okay."

"I actually agree with him on this," Derek said. They had just turned onto a road that led away from the main heart of the city. Off in the distance was a wide expanse of farmland, each individual property separated by gradually increasing distance. "Not because of his reference to movies, though. I know from first-hand-experience that being too comfortable is a surefire way to be taken by surprise."

"Tell me about it," Isaac groaned as he shook his head. "That's how I ended up getting separated from you. Then again, we didn't exactly expect her to blast through the roof and drop a storm of bullets on us."

"Are you talking about the one who shot me in the leg?" Isaac slowly nodded at Scott's question. "Wow, she really knows how to get around. So she's tried to kill you three times already? You sure you don't have a prior history with her?"

"So you and Derek already know each other," Stiles stated before anything else could be said. "You two were also on a first-name basis back at the clinic before we knew each other's names. So did you guys just meet up because of this hell?"

"We've known each other for a few months back when I was working as an archives manager," Derek responded. Isaac seemed to hesitate for a second before nodding. "Isaac was a pretty skittish guy before hanging out with me. He's gotten better but has his moments."

"I kinda already figured on the skittish part," Scott said with a lighthearted chuckle. "So Isaac was your assistant?"

"Not exactly," Isaac corrected. "It's more that I helped him on things he couldn't finish on his own. I never sorted any documents for him; I can barely understand the library's sorting system."

"Then what did you mostly do?" Stiles asked, his suspiciousness kicking in at the lack of an answer.

"I…mainly examined rooms," the man replied in an unsure tone. "Our paths happened to cross a lot."

"So are you a maintenance man or something?" the rookie officer pressed. The air in the car became tense as his irritation became apparent.

"Does it matter, Stiles?" Scott cut in. He appeared oblivious to the increased tension, but it could have been because he was used to Stiles' tenacity and way of thinking. "I doubt he'll be going back to it when this's all over. No need to be so pushy."

"It's okay, Scott," Derek assured. He then said after avoiding an abandoned car, "I think he's bored and wanting to annoy us."

"Trust me; you'll know when I'm being annoying. This is me just asking questions."

"Sounds more like an interrogation instead."

Whatever Stiles' counter to Isaac would have been was cut short as something suddenly rammed into the side of their car. The impact forced Scott to fall onto the officer's lap as they started to swerve uncontrollably. Isaac's arms were all over the place as he barely managed to catch the bag of suppressants before it smashed against the windshield. Despite all the chaos, Derek managed to maintain control and brought them to a safe stop.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles exclaimed as he shoved his best friend off.

"Everyone okay?" Isaac asked, his tone devoid of its usual skittishness.

"We're fine," Derek replied with a sound almost like a sigh-growl hybrid. He took a moment to himself before saying, "Nobody's seriously hurt."

"How can you tell without seeing us? That's-"

"What is that? _!_ " Scott exclaimed. He was looking at the street behind them, presumably to see what ran into them. Stiles was too busy making sure he was not hurt to pay attention, but the others turned around and saw what startled Scott.

"Derek, is that-"

"It is, Isaac! I don't know how, but it is!"

"What's what?" Stiles asked, finally turning around to see what was going on.

Staring right back at them was one of the werewolves. Despite the poor lighting, it was clearly different from others they have seen. The most obvious thing was its size; it was bigger than others they have seen so far. In was merely hunched over for whatever reason but was already almost as tall as their car. Even its claws, or what they could see under the dim light of the moon, shone menacingly as though something were on it.

"What the hell? _!_ " Stiles exclaimed, his voice no louder than a whisper. "They come in different sizes?"

"I guess so," Scott dumbly replied. He was obviously shocked at seeing such a monster so close to them.

"Derek…!" Isaac hissed, his tone pleading and desperate.

Derek immediately floored it without another word. The tires squealed sharply, breaking whatever stupor the monster was in. It began running towards them at full speed, the car barely managing to further the distance. By the time they finally got up-to-speed, the group felt an immensely strong tremble followed by the sound of metal being torn apart.

"Holy crap!" Stiles screamed as he saw the tip of the monster's claws peeking through the car's upholstery. It barely missed skewering him and Scott, instead miraculously hitting only thin air. "Can't you go faster?"

"This isn't a racecar!" the driver spat as he wildly swerved around to get the monster off them. They had nowhere near enough speed, however, and managed nothing more than tamely changing lanes. "That and it's slowing us down! Get it off now!"

"With what? _!_ " Scott exclaimed as the monster tore through the seats again. Had he not leaned to the left, his arm would have been completely sheared off. "I lost my bat, and I doubt Stiles' toy gun will work!"

"People can still die from BB guns!" Stiles argued as he took said gun and aimed it at the large monster. However, he only got one shot in before hearing the click of an unloaded barrel. The single shot did land its mark, though it clearly did nothing to help their situation. "Damn it; I'm out of bullets! Any new ideas?"

Nobody had a chance to respond before another gunshot, this time louder, rang within the car. The monster roared in pain immediately afterwards, Stiles seeing its grip loosening slightly as a result. He heard and saw another shot striking its neck, this time causing it to let go of the car completely.

"What the hell? Who's shooting?" Turning around, the rookie cop saw Isaac twisted in his seat with a pistol aimed beyond him. That was when he caught the smell of gunpowder assaulting his adrenaline-fueled senses. "Isaac? _!_ When'd you get a gun?"

"Derek!" Isaac exclaimed, his response unclear if he got the weapon from the driver or was just yelling his name. His gaze, however, never once left the monster. This prompted Stiles to turn around. He saw it was stumbling badly but managing to keep up with them. "Damn it, don't you ever quit?" he shouted before letting loose another shot.

"Wow, didn't know you were that good of a shot!" Stiles breathed out in awe as he saw the monster claw at its face. He could not tell if the bullet was still lodged in its head, but he could care less. Right now, it was slowing down to a staggering walk and losing distance from them.

Unfortunately, the budding excitement was quickly squashed when the monster seemed to find a burst of adrenaline. Its body hurled towards them in record time. Stiles barely had any time to duck behind his seat and take Scott down with him before it made contact with the car. The impact was so strong; Derek began to swerve uncontrollably. Unlike last time, however, he was having a hard time trying to recover from the strike. It was all he could do to not run into anything head-first.

At the end of a three-second fight for control, the car finally gave in to the uncoordinated movements. The momentum combined with a tire squealing sharp turn caused it to roll onto its side. The group screamed as the first flip threw them about the car, but it was drowned out by the sound of metal being banged and scraped against the concrete. They did a total of five flips before skidding to a halt upside-down.

"S-Scott…?" Stiles mumbled in pain as he tried to pick himself up. He fell back down when something piled onto his back.

"On top of you…," he heard Scott groan, a hand gripping firmly onto his shoulder at the same time. Derek and Isaac were, for the most part, okay as they began to assure each other they were fine between groans. "You okay?"

Stiles tried to respond, but he suddenly found himself unable to say a thing. In fact, his entire body seemed to be shutting down. He fell back down as his strength gave way, his vision also blacking out at an astonishingly fast rate. His hearing was the last thing to go, the sound of Scott weakly calling his name almost obscured by the roar of the werewolf that overturned their car.


End file.
